


Miles and Piles of You

by ourraeofsunshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Professor Castiel, balthazar/hannah should totally be a thing, dean has no life, hannah sucks at life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 60,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourraeofsunshine/pseuds/ourraeofsunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas had a whirlwind romance that bloomed into an unhappy marriage and dissolved in a harrowing divorce. Six years later, the two cross paths again, and a friendship forms between them. This story documents the tale of how Dean and Cas came to be lovers to friends to soul mates over the course of ten long years in this loosely based Last Five Years AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles and Piles of You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'd like to thank you for clicking on this link, and I want to say a few things before we begin.
> 
> First, this fanfic. started as a procrastination device during my finals week in April and carried on into my Summer vacation. I would never have dreamed of writing a fanfic if not for the twelve page English paper I was supposed to be writing. A month later, here we are. This fic does not have a beta, so any mistakes are completely my fault, however, I tried to clean it up as best I could in the read through.
> 
> Secondly, there are some subjects I write on that I describe without actually knowing anything on them. So if you happen to be an expert on officiating court house weddings, woodworking/building desks, assembling IKEA furniture, break-ups/any type of relationship, hangovers, or child birth, then I apologize for any mistakes I may have mayed in detailing these events. If you are easily offended by the improper construction of an IKEA desk, I would not recommend reading this fic.
> 
> FInally, I hope you enjoy this dearly and have a wonderful time putting off whatever it is you're procrastinating on as well.

 

_“I mean, we’ll have to try a little harder,_

_And bend things to and fro_

_To make this love as special_

_As it was five years ago._

_I mean, you made it to Ohio!_

_Who knows where else we can go?_

“See I’m Smiling”- _The Last Five Years_

**The Center of It All**

“Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore.” The apartment was dark, only a strip of light peeking out of the kitchen. The blinds were down, though a window was open, and the light tap of blinds hitting the window pane echoed after Cas’ words.

“What?” Dean’s lips parted in surprise. Cas’ hands fell to his side in defeat and exhaustion. “What are you talking about, Cas?” His breath shook as his eyes flicked around the apartment, landing on the tipped over trash can in the corner. Some of the trash had fallen out and he knew he’d be cringing later when he picked it all up.

Dean took a deep breath, pretending that he’d heard the words wrong. Cas lifted a hand to place on Dean’s shoulder, but the other man jerked away.

Cas sighed and stepped back. “Maybe we shouldn't _be_ together anymore.”

“I don’t— What are you saying?” His voice cracked, and Cas could tell he was trying his damnedest not to hear the words Cas was saying.

“I’m tired, Dean.” Cas’ voice was raw with exhaustion, and his words made Dean feel like a butter knife was digging through his flesh and into his ribs. “I’m just… tired.”

“What does that even _mean_? What are you…?” Cas stepped back into his space, giving him nowhere else to look but back into his eyes.

“I’m tired of fighting all the time. I’m tired of you picking up extra hours to avoid being at home, and… I’m tired of being angry with you all the time.” He paused and looked down in defeat. “I’m tired of making you hate me.”

“Cas…” His head bowed until it pressed lightly against Dean’s shoulder. He could feel Dean’s hand hovering over his back, wanting so badly to press down, to comfort the man.

 “I love you, and I don’t want to go. But if I stay, I’ll hate you, and that’s the one thing that I never want to happen.” Dean felt like he had just gone two rounds with a man twice his size like he used to do on the cold nights before Cas, when all he wanted was a few beers and a good hit to the face. The air punched from his lungs and he pressed his hands to the wall to keep from falling over.

“Cas…” His voice trailed off as the other man took a step back. Dean’s words were desperate and too late as he realized he was losing his husband. “I’ll take out the trash next time. I’ll clean the fridge. I’ll… go with you guys next time Anna invites us out for lunch. Don’t do this, okay? I’m sorry. _I’m sorry_.” His hands shook, but he still reached for Cas who was steadily avoiding his gaze as he stepped away, adding another brick to the wall between them.

“It’s not about the trash or the fridge, Dean.” His voice was hard, distant. He didn’t know if he’d be able to go through with this if he didn’t get the words out now. “I’ve been thinking of this for a while now, Dean. Anna’s got a room for me at her place until I figure stuff out.”

“Figure _what_ out, Cas. There’s nothing to figure out. Don’t do this.” Dean was trying not to cry and covered his eyes with his fist. “ _Don’t do this_.”

Cas stared at his shoes feeling his breath coming hard. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to hurt Dean, to make the man cry when he hadn’t even done so at his own father’s funeral. He’d been distraught for months after that, and Cas didn’t want to know what this would mean for Dean.

His husband had to have seen the signs. For months the tension had grown, mean quips thrown over half-assed dinners that became take-out until they eventually stopped dining together at all. Dean had taken on more hours at the shop, and Cas had spent his nights at the college library until they would kick him out to close up. When the two were around each other, they were too tired to do much, but occasionally, the fighting would happen and didn’t end until Dean stormed out and found himself at the bar at the end of the street, leaving Cas curled up under the covers, fighting the sleep until he knew his husband had returned home safe, if not sober, for the night.

Cas felt a sharpness stirring in his lungs. Of course, Dean hadn't sees the signs. He would let the wound fester if it meant pretending everything was fine, and this relationship… It was terminal, and here he was pretending that it could be fixed, that if Cas just would have faith in them, as if he didn't know faith, as if he hadn't given up everything.

Cas ground his teeth together and pushed the words through with a harsh finality to them. “I can’t be here anymore, Dean. I can’t do this. I can’t be _happy_ here anymore.”

The two men stood, avoiding each other’s gaze. Dean’s shoulders shook under his faded band t-shirt, and Cas wanted to snap at him that he’d catch a cold standing there with nothing but a thin layer on. But they couldn't do that for each other anymore.

“Maybe we can…” Dean’s voice trailed off and his hands twisted together in hopelessness.

“We can’t fix this, Dean.” The man before him straightened and turned away, pushing past Cas and disappearing into the bathroom. The door locked behind him and Cas was left alone to pack his things and call Anna.

He left an hour later. Dean had not come out of the bathroom.

 

**Before- Twenty-Two**

Cas was at Anna’s for the weekend, helping her move out of her ex-boyfriend’s apartment, and Dean had the place to himself. He’d been excited for the break, thinking of all the things he could do without Cas there. Like cook meatloaf or watch ESPN until four in the morning. Not that he couldn't do those things with Cas here, but Cas hated meatloaf and went to sleep no later than one in the morning, which was weird, because he was a grad student and should have been fueled on caffeine until all hours of the night.

And Dean had been excited. He really had. He’d come home Friday night after going out with some guys from work, and he’d found the small apartment empty and silent. No bustling of Cas in the kitchen, none of those lullaby versions of pop songs for babies that Cas wasted his money on. Nothing. Just silence.

Dean had kicked off his shoes and left them thrown across the living room, another thing he couldn't have done if Cas was home. He shuffled into the kitchen, removing his jacket and letting it fall to the floor, before slowly stripping himself of his flannel and jeans.  He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter. He listened to the music pounding through the floorboards from the frat boys who lived below them. He shuffled his feet and could hear the creek of the linoleum that was probably as old as Sam was. A bead of water dribbled down the side of the beer bottle, and he picked at the corner of the plastic label.

Someone in the parking lot was honking their horn obnoxiously, and he listened to the college girls across the hall as they stumbled out of their room, heard their high heels clacking as they made it to the stairway and the sound of a door closing.

 _Fuck_ , he thought before turning towards the counter, plugging in the iHome that Cas always unplugged before bed. “To save energy,” Dean could hear him saying. “We need to save energy, Dean.” He smiled at the memory and hooked up his iPod. “Houses of the Holy” played through the speakers so loud that he couldn't hear the honking or the music from below. He put the beer bottle in the sink to be rinsed later and went to sprawl out across the couch and pretend that he wasn't missing his husband.

 

Saturday consisted of much of the same moping. He jerked off a few times and ordered a pizza, not up for cooking if it would only be for himself. He left a message on Sam’s machine and tried to work himself up to going grocery shopping so when Cas came home he could make him a Welcome Back I Did A Lot of Cool Things and Only Thought About You A Little dinner, but he didn’t feel like putting on clothes and leaving the warmth of the couch.

By Saturday night he was losing his mind and pulled on a pair of pants just long enough to walk down to the corner store for another six pack and snacks. Sunday he woke up late and went to the grocery store that Cas liked even though their lettuce was ridiculously expensive and all of the snacks were healthy with things like gluten-free and organic written on the packaging. He picked out and paid for some kind of whole grain pasta and an organic tomato sauce, before going back through the line for the expensive lettuce anyway.

Victor called shortly after he got back, inviting him to watch the game at his place, but Dean declined and watched some show about robots in the circus until eight o’clock when Cas said he would be heading back. He made spaghetti and garlic bread that had grown ice in the freezer and set the table, but by eight there was still no sign of the other man. At nine, Dean reheated his spaghetti and ate it while watching _Ghostbusters_. Then he covered Cas’ plate in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. He covered himself with a blanket and curled up on the couch until he drifted off.

Sometime in the early morning, an arm wrapped around his body, pulling him up from the couch and into his bedroom.

“You ‘on’t get t’ do this,” he mumbled into the warm neck of his mover, breathing in the smell of honey and pine and home. “M’ mad a’ you. I made dinner, and you were late.”

“I know, love. I know.” The body pushed him down into the sheets, pulling off his pants and slipping a hand under his shirt.

“Tryin’a take ‘vantage of me when I’m tired,” Dean mumbled, lifting his arms as the thin material slid over his muscles. He heard a chuckle above him, felt a kiss press to his clavicle, and pulled the warm body closer to him.

“Go to sleep, beloved.” And he did.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

The crowd standing opposite Castiel was small but thick as classes got out and hordes of students got in line for a coffee before rushing off to their next class. He’d had a few students and professors of religious studies who were in the area stop by his table for a signing, but mostly, Castiel was just plain bored. He clicked his pen for the hundredth time as Hester returned with two cups of Joe. She passed one over to him, and he blew on the rim before taking a small sip. And proceeded to spit the burning coffee back into the cup.

When he looked over at Hester she was hiding a smile behind her own cup. “What? I couldn't resist.” She sat down next to him and straightened the stack of books on the table for the hundredth time.

“No one’s come,” he told her. She pulled a folder from her bag and began to flip through folders.

“Don’t exaggerate, Castiel,” she replied just like she had when he’d said the same thing earlier. “Several of your students have stopped by and picked up a copy and you talked to that Dr. Morrison who drove all the way here from KSU.”

“That’s because I consulted Dr. Morrison while writing this and he was probably just trying to make sure I gave credit where it’s due,” Castiel replied sharply. He was acting like a child and knew Hester didn’t deserve it. She had spent hours calling different college campuses across the United States to advertise his book at and had scheduled this entire signing today.

His book analyzed homosexuality in late-medieval art, which gave it a very limited buyer range. Still, he had expected more people to show than _this_. He had spent countless hour pouring over every page, threw it out, and started over several times before Hester got her hands on it and forced him to finish with her persistent pestering that reminded him of high school when Rachel and Hael would bang on his wall until he took them to the swings.

Hester never banged on his wall, but one night she had refused to leave until he at least started a new chapter. She’d sat on his couch watching Netflix while he typed away on his computer, back to the television. In the morning, they’d gone through two six packs and he had a new chapter fresh from the printer and ready for editing.

On top of her persistence, she could be enormously positive. Like now, for instance. Hester perked up in her seat, folder pushed to the side as Castiel picked at a hangnail. She stood and greeted the person who had approached his table with a perky smile and a cheerful hello. Castiel wanted to groan at the synthetic conversation starter. He started to stand but paused halfway once he saw who was before him.

Her hair was still blonde, but there were wisps of gray along the ears. Her eyes had crinkles at the edges. She wore a simple yellow dress with the same brown leather jacket that Cas remembered her always wearing. She looked just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her.

“Mary,” he whispered, straightening his pose. “What are you— Is everything alright?”

“I heard you were doing a signing today,” she explained, stepping forward and taking his hands in hers. She gave them a squeeze, and he felt like crumbling into her side. “It’s been quite a while, dear.”

He nodded and noticed Hester staring out of the corner of his eye. He pulled back and turned towards his agent and friend.

“Mary, this is Hester. She made all of this possible for me,” he introduced. “Hester, this is Mary. She…”

Mary stepped forward and shook Hester’s hand. “I’m an old friend. This is a wonderful display you have set up.” It really wasn’t and Mary really wasn’t an old friend, but he wasn’t going to correct them. He wondered how she had found out about the signing. It wasn’t the kind of thing that she would just come across. Unless she was keeping tabs. Which, yeah, they’d had lunch a few times since the divorce, but the last one had been a couple years ago. So what was she doing here now?

“How did you find out about this?” he bit out. Did Dean tell her? That would mean that Dean had kept tabs on him, and he found that hard to believe. He had stopped talking to Victor, Bobby, and most of their other mutual friends after the divorce, so it couldn’t have been any of them.

“What? I can’t check in on you every now and then?” Cas could tell that Hester was curious as to who Mary Winchester was and how she knew Cas, but she didn’t say anything as Mary picked up a copy of one of the books on the table and held it out for him to sign. Their fingers brushed as he took it from her and hunched over the table to scribble on the title page.

            “I came to see if you’d eaten yet. I saw your picture online. You looked like you could use a good meal. What do you say?” She smiled down at him, and he handed back the book.

“Yeah, I could go for that.”

She must have noted when the signing would end, because thirty minutes later, Hester told Castiel that they could finally begin packing up. Mary, who was sitting in Cas’ seat, began to help, but Hester insisted that they go ahead and grab lunch, that she could finish up at the table.

They walked to a small sandwich shop just off campus. The sun was high, but a light breeze kept them cool. Mary wrapped her arm around Cas’ as they walked and leaned her head on his shoulder. They talked about his work lately, teaching at KU in the religious studies and art history departments, how he was at least signed on as a full teacher now, which was better than when he wasn’t sure if he’d have a job the next semester. Mary talked about the pie she had baked for her new neighbors just to find out that they were on a gluten-free diet. She told him that Sam finally tied the knot with that nice girl Jessica that Cas had met at their last Thanksgiving together, and that he was working at a small firm in Santa Barbara but was looking for a location back in Kansas.

Once they reached the small shop, they ordered their sandwiches, his a turkey on wheat and Mary’s a melted ham and cheese on rye, and sat at a table in the corner. Cas paid, against Mary’s protest, insisting that she had a birthday coming up in a few weeks, and it would be his treat.

Once they were finished, she leaned forward with both of her elbows on the table placed her chin on her fist. He watched the way she sat and her nervous fingers tapping on against her knuckles. She avoided his gaze and then finally pushed away from the table.

“I wasn’t completely honest earlier, Cas. I may have come for another reason.” He crossed his arms and straightened up as she finally looked at him.

“You should see the pictures from the wedding. Dean looked so nice with—”

“Mary,” Cas warned, laying his hands flat on the table. “You know the rule. We don’t speak of him. Remember?” Mary looked chagrinned, and he felt the guilt deep in his stomach. This woman had been nothing but kind to him since the first time they’d met. He was the last person who should take that tone with her, especially since he left her son in whatever condition the divorce left him in. God knows, Cas didn’t stick around to see.

“I remember,” Mary mumbled. Her hands twitched nervously, and they were silent for a moment. “He’s with a girl. Carmen.” Cas’s eyes narrowed, but then he heard what she had said and his head tilted in confusion.

“Okay…” She looked lost on what to say next. “Mary, I’ve been with people since him too. I’m okay. Really.”

“You’re happy though?” she asked, reaching a hand out to lay over his. He wrapped the small hand up in his and gave it a squeeze.

“Is that what this is all about? You’re worried that I’m unhappy, because I’m alone?” Mary’s eyes crinkled as she shrugged and smiled.

“Can you blame me? You’re still as much a part of this family as you were when you were married to my son. I want you to be alright, Castiel.” Cas was shaking his head before she even finished.

“I’m not “the family”, Mary. You know, I haven’t been since the night I walked out of that apartment.” He smiled sadly at their hands intertwined on the table and pulled his back. “I appreciate the concern, but really, I’m okay.” He laughed, or that’s what it was supposed to be. It was more of a huff or hot air, but he soldiered on. “I’ve got a decent job with people that I like, and I’ve got my friends. I’ve even got a cat.” Mary smiled at him, but it seemed more out of pity than happiness for him.

“And you’re happy?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then.” She placed her hand on his check, and he couldn’t resist leaning in to the motherly touch. “Well, are you going to tell me what this damn book is about or what?” she asked, pulling away and changing the subject. He smiled down at the hard cover with his name printed at the bottom and flipped open the cover page.

“What, do you want a reading or something?”

“Are you offering?”

 

Cas returned to his apartment shortly after dinner and found his lighter haired brother sprawled out in the massage chair. He slammed the door behind him, and Gabriel opened an eye.

“Trouble, baby bro?” He lifted one side of his headphones. Cas removed his jacket and dropped to the couch opposite Gabriel.

“I saw Mary today,” he told him. Gabriel smirked and pulled the headphones down completely, tucking them around his neck.

“You dirty dog, you! Did she yell at you for not calling her back? Kali did that one time, hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Winchester, Gabriel. Mary Winchester.” He looked up and his brother’s lips had formed an ‘o’ of understanding.

“Well… you didn’t happen to sleep with her, I presume?” He threw a throw pillow at his brother who hit it away with his hand. “Kidding, kidding.” Cas rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“She wanted to know if I was happy.” Gabriel shuffled in the leather and a loud _pfft_ of air was released from the cushion.

“Well, are you?”

“Of course, I am. I just published my first book. I’ve got a full position at the university, at least for the next year I do. Yesterday, I watched Crowley get insulted by the Dean of Students. The semester is almost over and I only have two summer classes this year, both of which are in June. I’m very happy.”

Gabriel nodded, turning up the pressure of the massage. “Good, because otherwise I would have to take you out to meet a special lady, and Kali would be upset by that considering we’re now engaged.”

“Yeah? Congrats.” This was the third time this year that they’d gotten engaged just to end it over something stupid.

“Congrats? That’s all I get?”

“Don’t you have a business to run right now or something?” Cas asked, sitting up and crossing his legs. His brother was never at work. He’d opened the candy shop back when Cas and Dean were still married. In the first few months of its opening, Cas was often recruited as a volunteer cashier. He didn’t make any money from it, but he got all the free candy, which made Dean very happy.

“Alfie can handle it,” he replied.

“ _Samandriel_ cannot handle your shop all by himself. Please tell me that you’ve at least got Andy on register.”

“Cassie,” he whined. “He comes in stoned and eats it when he thinks I’m not looking.”

“So do you.”

“Yeah, but I _own_ it.” Cas sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“What are you doing here again?”

“Anna was concerned. She wouldn’t leave me alone until I came down here for myself to see why you’ve been ignoring her calls.” Anna was too protective of Cas, which sometimes he was grateful for but mostly he just wished she would leave him be when he needed his space.

“I haven’t been avoiding her,” he lied. “I lost my charger and haven’t had time to buy one.”

“Yeah, she knows you had three book signings this week, Cassie. She’s not going to believe that you let your phone die.”

“I’ve just been busy this week. I didn’t have time to talk about my financial situation _which is fine_ for your information.” Cas glared at Gabriel who merely held up his hands in defeat.

“Got it, baby bro. Sadly, we’re your siblings, so we have to care. I’ll pass on the message though.” Cas rolled onto his stomach and crossed his arms, resting his chin over his wrist. Gabriel turned up the pressure again releasing a low grown that reminded Cas of the many times in high school he’d walked in on his brother and a girl.

“Do I need to get that chair pressure washed as soon as you leave?” he asked his brother.

“I don’t think even that could get this baby clean.” Gabe smirked and Cas wrinkled his nose.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Please, Cas, I’m not an animal. I know the ‘don’t jerk it in another man’s massage chair’ rule. I’m not completely base… Unless that chair happens to belong to Michael.” Cas snorted and pulled the afghan off the back of the couch, draping it over him.

He was so tired. In the morning, he would have to pack his bags and start his three week trip to various universities across the country. For now he listened to the soothing purr of the chair and shut his eyes. Just for a little bit…

When he woke up the next morning, Gabriel was gone, but there was still an envelope of money on the counter that Gabriel would pretend to have no knowledge of until Cas accepted it. For all of Gabe’s childish antics, he still cared about his brother, not to mention, Anna punched really hard when she wanted something.

 

Dean’s fingers were sore when he finally put the guitar down. Scratch that. His entire body was sore. He stretched out his legs from where he’d been sitting cross legged on the carpet with his laptop in front of him. The light coming through the window had been bright that morning, but there was only a thin strip across the carpet in front of him. He loved his days off when he could sit down and spend it hunched over the instrument.

Usually, he didn’t get around to playing her until he had spent a day under some Honda or hunched over a dresser and come home exhausted and covered in grease or sawdust. Then he’d sit down at the piano or his guitar and work on whatever he felt like at the time. Lately, his woodwork had gained a bit of a following at Pastor Jim’s furniture store in town, and he’d had to spend more time in the workshop around back of Bobby’s house than at home playing guitar.

Today though had just been for him. He didn’t have to listen for Carmen, who he hated playing in front of or worry about cooking dinner since he’d gotten take out. He could just sprawl out on the ground and eat Chinese and play.

Down the hall, he heard a door open and close. Carmen entered the room a moment later and dropped her purse on the couch.

“I’m only here for a quick minute,” she told him when he moved to get up. “I forgot my lunch, and now Dr. Garrison needs me to work the night shift.” She pulled a wrapped sandwich out of the fridge and a plastic container already packed with lasagna and broccoli. “Did you pack me a dinner?” she turned to Dean, holding up the food.

He got up from the carpet and came over to her, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“Yep.” The next kiss was lower, right above her ear.

“You knew I’d be pulling the night shift again.” Below the ear…

“I’m psychic.” Now one for her jawline.

“And you couldn’t have warned me this morning, babe.” He went for the lips, but she stepped back. “Not now. I’ve got to get back to the hospital. I’ll see you in the morning though.” She pecked his cheek, grabbed the sandwich and lasagna, and hurried out the door, swinging her purse around her shoulders.

Dean leaned against the fridge for a moment, taking in the silence before grabbing a beer and returning to his guitar. He had work to do.

 

Dean picked Sam and Jess up from the airport Friday night. Sam’s birthday had just passed and Mary’s was on Saturday. The couple had flown in for the weekend, and Dean had been designated to pick them up. The board showed that Sam’s flight had landed, and a horde of people were leaving the terminal, although he hadn’t seen the giant yet.

He was waiting by baggage claim, checking his phone for a text from Sam, when he looked up and noticed a familiar head of dark hair. He stood on instinct but froze before he could move forward anymore. _Cas_. He exhaled as the man leaned over to pick up a black bag from the conveyor belt. Then watched as the body hefted the bag over his shoulder, turned, started to walk, then froze.

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes trailed up his body until he met Cas’. Words were lodged in his throat, and when he tried to clear it, Cas just looked at him in concern.

“Dean, are you okay?” he asked as Dean started to cough. Dean nodded and held up a finger as he coughed into his sleeve.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Sorry.” The two stood there staring at each other. Cas shifted his weight from one foot to the other. People bustled around them, and for a moment, they were separated by the crowd. Dean stepped forward, not wanting to lose sight of him, and Cas must have done the same, because suddenly they were much closer than before.

Cas looked good. Dean would be lying if he thought any different. Cas looked _really_ good. His hair was shorter than when they’d been together and his shoulders seemed broader somehow. His shirt fit snuggly over his shoulders and _his tie._

 _Jesus_ , Dean thought, _I don’t remember his eyes being so blue_.

Cas was staring back at him, eyes squinting in confusion. Dean took another step forward as someone bumped into him from behind. _Cas, we’ve talked about this. Personal space._ The memory punched out of Dean, and he felt a sharp pang for a second before straightening up and meeting Cas’ gaze head on.

“Heya, Cas.” The other man smiled at him and held out his hand.

“It’s been a while, Dean.” Hearing his voice saying his name after all these years made Dean’s stomach flip, and he had to take a small breath before continuing.

“What are you…? Did you just get back from somewhere?”

“Yes,” Cas explained, looking down. “I’ve just finished touring my new book at several colleges across the country. What about… Are you here for…?” He looked uncomfortable, but Dean hardly noticed. _A book tour?_ Dean felt stupid. He should have known that Cas would be doing something great now. Here he was working as a mechanic still and made an occasional dresser or china cabinet for a couple of newlyweds. Neither of which paid very much.

_A book tour?_

“I’m here for Sam. He flew in for—”

“For Mary’s birthday! That’s right.” Cas smiled, and Dean’s heart pounded against his ribs. “I remember.” He looked so proud of himself, and Dean felt himself begin to smile.

“Yeah.” The two stood there shuffling feet and passing small smiles to each other. Then Cas’ lips fell, and he looked regretful, biting his lip.

“I guess I should let you get back to looking for Sam.” Dean nodded, smile slipping from his lips as well. They stood there another few awkward seconds, and then Cas held out his hand. “It was so good to see you, Dean.” Then he stepped back and disappeared into the crowd of people. Dean stood there awestruck for a moment watching him disappear. A few moments later, a two hands landed on his shoulders and a body jumped up onto his back.

“Dean!” Jess’ legs wrapped around his waist and he looked up at the blonde on his back.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he grinned, and a moment later his giant of a brother appeared in front of him with their luggage. The three left the airport, Jess still on Dean’s back, and the couple talked about their flight and a house that they wanted to check out while they were here and if Bobby and Ellen would be coming.

 

Sam and Jess were out looking at houses in the Lawrence area so it was just Mary and Dean on Saturday morning. She was already awake, making up a batch of pancakes when Dean finally came downstairs.

“Jeez, shouldn’t they have jetlag or something?” he grumbled scratching his belly, once Mary filled him in on their whereabouts.

“Try telling them that. They were bouncing around like two year olds when I got up this morning. Didn’t even make coffee, something about drinking organic tea.” Mary took a sip from a mug on the counter and poured Dean a mug of coffee before passing it over. He took it gratefully and leaned against the counter as she added chocolate chips to the pancakes.

“How are you, sweetie? You seemed kind of out of it last night?”

Mary turned around and put a hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze. He took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and crossed one ankle over the next. Mary leaned against the counter, waiting for him to find his words. When he gave them, they weren’t what she expected.

“I saw Cas yesterday.”

She straightened up and stepped closer in case he needed a hug. He’d lived with his mother through his high school heartbreak and his father’s death, so he recognized the sneak approach for what it was and stepped backwards out of reach.

“I’m fine, Mom. I just… He looked good, you know?” Mary did know and waited, knowing he had more to say. “I haven’t seen him since… He’s doing a book tour— or he was doing one. He just finished.” Mary seemed to draw the pieces together and nodded in understanding.

“You saw him at the airport…” Dean nodded and shifted his weight.

“He had just returned.” Mary flipped the pancakes and waited another minute before checking the underside. They were done. Dean pulled two plates out of the cabinet and passed one to her. She put two on Dean’s and one on hers before adding more batter to the pan. The mixture sizzled as it touched the pan.

“He looked so good, Mom.” His voice cracked, and Mary pulled him forward. He fell into her arms and gripped her tight. A few minutes later, she pulled back to flip the pancakes. He sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. “I just wasn’t expecting it to still hurt so much.”

“You never got closure, sweetie. It’s okay to still hurt.”

“It’s been six years.”

“It’s been eight since your father…” Mary’s voice cut off and she raised a hand to her chest. “It’s okay to still hurt,” she repeated. Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulder and they waited in silence for the pancakes to finish. They ate at the kitchen table. Dean’s legs were now long enough to touch the floor, but as Mary looked onward, she still saw the little six year old when grubby fingers and chubby cheeks sitting there. When they were done, they sat in silence a few more minutes, before Dean looked over to her with a smile.

“Happy birthday, Mom.”

 

**Before- Twenty-Two**

“Cas, you do not need all of these notebooks. You’ve graduated. You’re moving on to the next level, buddy.” Dean held two spirals up in the air, and Cas yanked them back and put them into the box of books.

“I’m going to be a grad student come fall. I might need these again.” Dean rolled his eyes and sighed but passed the stack towards his fiancé. Cas’ apartment was emptying fast, and Dean was almost going to miss the small space, especially the small kitchen where they’d had sex over the counter. Or the wall of the living room where they’d also had sex. Or the bathroom where they’d… Well, you get the gist.

There was no reason for Cas to stay in this small apartment, though, when Dean lived close enough to campus. The rent would be cheaper if they lived together. Cas would be closer to a grocery store. Dean’s bathroom was bigger, but mostly, Dean would be there. That was the most important to Cas. It just made sense at this point for the two to move in together. Besides, they’d be married in a few weeks, and they were hardly traditional about their relationship.

“Jeez, Cas, how many pillows do you have?” Dean held up in one hand the green dinosaur pillow he’d found at a yard sale one year and in the other a blue one Anna had bought him because it reminded her of his eyes. Cas grabbed them both from his lover and tucked them around his dishware.

“Seriously? These won’t all fit on my bed, babe.” Dean picked up a bee plushy, and a pillow with an embroidery of a honey comb and flying bees on it. Cas grabbed them from his hands and tucked them in another box. “Leave the plates. I have plenty.”

“Dean.” Cas’ tone was one of warning. When he turned around Dean was holding up a book on Renaissance painters with a portrait of Michelangelo on it. Cas grabbed that from Dean too, but when he pulled the book away, the other man was smiling like a five year old with candy.

“Dean.” His tone was loving this time, and a moment later, the two men tumbled over the arm of the couch, falling back into the cushions as Cas straddled Dean’s thighs, pinning his arms above his head.

“You gonna do something, or was your plan just to get me all distraught and spread out for you, babe?” Cas smiled and cuddled his face in Dean’s neck. His hands slid down Dean’s arms and pressed to the side of his ribs, feelings the individual bones beneath the thin t-shirt. Dean’s arms wrapped around Cas’ back, holding him to him. They laid there a moment, letting the breeze coming through the window cool them off. Finally, Cas pulled back and sat back on his lover’s thighs.

“We’re moving in together, Dean.” The other man looked up at him, a goofy grin covering his face. His fingers pressed into Cas’ hips, and Cas breathed in sharply.

“Well, I’d hope so. I wouldn’t want to be doing all this work for nothing.” Dean had been the one carrying most of the boxes out to the car, so even with the breeze, his shirt clung to his body with sweat. He didn’t protest as Cas slid his fingers beneath the hem and pulled the thin cloth over his head.

“Oh you’re not doing it for nothing,” Cas replied. He ground down and the boy beneath him arched with a small gasp.

“Cas,” the man whimpered. “We’re never gonna get you out of here if we keep taking breaks.” Still he ground up against Cas.

Cas put both hands on Dean’s shoulders, holding him down as he leaned down to his ear and nipped at the lobe. “But, honey, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

Then a moment later, “Well, we’ve got until noon tomorrow, actually.”

 

Dean felt like he was going to drop dead from exhaustion, but finally, everything of Cas’ was moved into his apartment, which was much smaller now that two were living in it. He smiled from the doorway as Cas set down the last box, and yeah, sure, they hadn’t yet unpacked everything. Cas’ stuff didn’t technically fill his apartment yet, but there was Cas grinning from the center of the room and it was now Cas’ home and—

Oh, God. What if Cas wanted a pet. They’d have to get a fish or something hairless. Dean was allergic to cats. What if Cas wanted a cat? Nobody wanted a naked mole rat or a snake. Although a snake would be cool, but what if Cas wanted a cat? Were cats even allowed in the apartment? Would they have to pay extra. Although they wouldn’t pay extra, because he’s allergic and they aren’t getting a cat. But what if Cas wanted a cat more than he wanted Dean? What if he come home one day and Cas had found a stray cat on the side of the road. Cas was the kind of person to take in a stray. Hell, they’d only met because—

“Dean?” Dean snapped out of his trance and realized that he was staring panicked and open mouthed at Cas who had come closer at some point and was looking concerned.

“I don’t want a cat, Cas.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess. We can’t exactly afford cat food if I’m going to be a grad student,” the other man responded, watching Dean with narrowed eyes.

“No, you little shit. I mean that I won’t be able to get a cat. Like ever.”

“Dean, is this your way of telling me we can’t have kids, because, trust me, I kind of already figured that out.” He just wasn’t getting it.

“No, Cas. I’m allergic. I can’t have cats, because I’m allergic to them, and I break out in a rash and can’t breathe if their hair is everywhere.” Dean’s hands fell to his sides and Cas took them in his.

“Yeah, I kind of figured when we went to Anna’s and you were sneezing every five minutes.” His tone was calming, as if he was trying to talk down a wild animal.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It was silent but for the sound of a car honking in the distance.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s this about?” Dean didn’t respond, and so Cas continued, “I mean, I thought you were on board with this. I thought you wanted to live with me.” A beat. “Do you not want to live with me?” Dean looked at his fiancé, surprised that the man could be so dumb.

“Cas, you live on the fourth floor,” he said as if that should make it clear. “I wouldn’t have walked up and down four flights of stairs all day, carrying heavy boxes if I didn’t want you living with me.”

“Are you sure? You want this? We aren’t moving too fast?” Dean walked them over to the couch and pushed Cas onto it, kneeling in front of the man on the floor. His grip was tight on his hands. He held them up to his lips and kissed each of Cas’ fingers before answering the question.

“I want this. This right here. The you in front of me. I want to look at you every day for the rest of my life. Even when we’re old and I hate you for being lazy, and you hate me for farting everywhere. I want to wake up and see you. I want to see you’re grumpy self in the morning before you get coffee, and I want to see you when you’re stressed and mean because you have a paper due the next day.” Dean scooted the other man forward on the couch, so they were almost pressed against each other.

“I want every part of you that you’ll give me. Are we moving too fast? Probably, but this is our choice. I love you so much, babe, and I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” The two stared, breathing against each other’s body. Dean’s face was in between Cas’ hands, and Dean’s hands were squeezing Cas’ thighs.

“That wasn’t part of your vows or anything, right?”

“What? Too cheesy?”

“No. No, it was great. I just didn’t realize that we were in a Rom-Com. That’s all.” Dean rolled his eyes and pushed away from the other. “Oh, don’t be like that. It was sweet, I guess.”

“Fuck you, Cas.”

“But that’s your job, Dean.” Dean held up his middle finger before disappearing into the bathroom to take a shower. He wasn’t really mad. He and Cas never said things straight. Their entire relationship was built on awkward miscommunications. But he certainly wasn’t mad a moment later when Cas climbed into the tight space behind him, pressed him tightly to the cold wall, and whispered his own vows into the blond man’s neck as his fingers scratched at Cas’ back, begging him closer and closer and—

 

**After- Two Years Later**

Lisa and Ben had taken him in like wounded puppy on the side of the road. Lisa had worked in a yoga studio while taking business classes at the local college back when they had dated. She had come into the Roadhouse one night, wanting a hard drink in a place that wouldn’t be too crowded, and had stuck around until Dean’s shift ended.

They’d broken up after a month, but Lisa was one of the most understanding people Dean had ever met. When she’d gotten pregnant after a night with some biker who hadn’t stayed around, Dean felt an obligation to stick around and help her out, especially since she’d helped him out so many times before. Once Ben was born, though, it wasn’t an obligation. Ben had taken to Dean almost as quickly as he had taken to Ben. The moment the boy opened his eyes, Dean’s had begun to tear up. Had Lisa not been in so much pain, she might have found it funny. Being as she was in excruciating pain, she was actually very exhausted and regretting the natural birth plan that hadn’t seemed so unnatural before the contractions.

Dean moved into Lisa’s house gradually and accidentally. After the divorce was finalized, he began filling all of his time engaging in projects, one of which was Lisa’s porch.

Lisa wanted a wraparound porch like she’d had when she was a little girl. Dean wanted a project. He began in May to help keep an eye on Ben while Lisa was finishing up her classes. He finished it by the end of June and started on giving the house a paint job. Lisa knew exactly what he was doing but figured if this was his way of coping, then who was she to protest.

It was when he repaired the roof after a particularly bad hail storm that he started leaving a change of clothes and staying the night. He’d wake up early, make Lisa and Ben breakfast and then start on the roof, while she dropped Ben off at daycare and headed to the studio to give an early bird class. At eleven, he’d go in for his shift at Bobby’s, and Thursday through Saturday, he’d work closing at the Roadhouse.

It was a form of denial, and Lisa knew she should probably sit down and have a talk with Dean, but he had seemed pretty okay. She didn’t want to be the one to take that away from him.

About a year after he had officially moved in, finally leaving Bobby’s, where he had stayed after the divorce, Dean stumbled in to Lisa’s house at two in the morning, drunk out of his mind and running into the kitchen table. He found his way to the living room and fell into the couch cushions, hugging a pillow to his chest when the overhead light flicked on.

A moment later, Lisa stood in front of him with her robe tied tightly around her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was frowning down at him. Her lips were moving, but Dean wasn’t hearing what she was saying. Finally, she just stopped and stared at him.

“Hey, Lis…” he slurred. “M’ drunk.” She huffed and threw her hands up.

“Come on.” Then she was pulling him up the stairs and to their bed. She placed a trashcan by his side and crawled under her covers, leaving him to deal with the hangover he’d have when he woke up.

 

Dean knew that he had screwed up when he woke up later that morning. He hadn’t been that drunk since the night he and Cas had first slept together. When he made his way downstairs, he realized Lisa and Ben were already gone and he was late for his shift to Bobby’s. Then he threw up in the kitchen sink.

When he got to the auto shop, Bobby took one look at him and told Dean to leave and never come back hungover again. Then ten minutes later, he called Dean and told him somebody had a Camry that needed a new radiator and to get his ass back as soon as possible.

Dean was going to take a long lunch to figure out what to say to Lisa, but one glare from Bobby and he was back under a Ford. He tried to focus on the metal beneath his hands for the rest of the day, but his mind kept drifting back to Lisa and Ben. He couldn’t remember much from last night, but he was sure Lisa was pissed at him. He hoped Ben hadn’t seen him like that. He felt sick just thinking about going back to their place.

When Bobby closed up for the night, Dean contemplated just getting in Baby and driving off. He could go anywhere. He had his wallet on him. He had a little bit of savings in his bank. He could hustle pool every now and then. Then Bobby clamped a hand down on his shoulder and guided him back to his office, pushing Dean down into a chair.

“Son, I don’t know what kind of situation you and Lisa got going on, but she’s treated you awful good these last two years.” Bobby stared him down, leaning against the desk Dean had made for him in his wood working class back in high school.

“Don’t even think about lying. I recognize that look in your eyes from the last time you ran off to God knows where. You aren’t a kid anymore. You can’t just leave for months at a time and send a ‘Wish You Were Here’ every now and then.” His voice was gruff, and once he finished his bit, he averted his gaze and picked at a thumbnail.

“Bobby…” Dean had taken off after graduation for a year and had done exactly what Bobby said, but no one had ever acted like it was a big deal. Except John but he was living with the Milligans in Minnesota, much to Sam’s joy.

Dean figured everyone had just picked up their lives after he’d left. He thought Mary might have worried, but she seemed to be the most understanding when he finally returned, only kissing her son on the forehead and asking him if he’d met any celebrities in California to which he had replied that he had seen Robert Redford in Utah.

“It doesn’t matter, boy,” Bobby said gruffly. “Just get home to your gal and apologize.”

“You know it’s not like that, Bobby,” Dean told him.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you came in here this morning with your tail between your legs.” He smiled at Dean and patted him on the back. “Now get out of here so I can lock up, you fool.”

Dean hopped up from the chair and stood outside while Bobby locked up.

“That wasn’t supposed to be encouraging, right?”

“Shuddup,” the older man replied, but he smiled so Dean knew they were okay.

Lisa and Ben had already eaten when Dean returned. There was food in the fridge, but she refused to talk to him, while Ben was in the room. Dean ate in silence and fiddled around in the kitchen, trying to figure out if he should apologize now or stay in the kitchen hiding all night. He found a pie in the freezer and popped it into the oven, hoping that would buy him some time and get him on Lisa’s good side. However, when the timer went off and Dean sat the pie on the cooling rack, Lisa grabbed a knife and two plates and took the entire cooling rack into the living room where Ben and she were watching a movie.

Dean stood in the kitchen, watching her leave and then sat back down on the stool. She had been good to him, and he knew he’d invited himself in to their little family without anyone asking him. Finally, he’d pushed her to the breaking point and Lisa was going to ask him to leave.

He headed upstairs and pulled out his old duffel from where he’d shoved it under the bed after officially moving in. This way when she confronted him, he could be out of the house as soon as possible. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the photo Lisa had of the three of them right after Ben was born. Cas had taken it, and right after Dean moved in, he’d asked Lisa to put it away somewhere he wouldn’t see. In the last year or so, she’d pulled it out at some point, and Dean could finally look at it without hurting inside. He took this as a sign that it was time to move on.

He started pulling his shirts out of his drawers and had almost all of his clothes packed in it when he heard Lisa putting Ben to bed. He sighed and added his last pair of work boots to the bag when Lisa finally entered the room. He heard her freeze behind him and then close the door quietly.

“Dean, what the hell is this?” This was it then. The moment he’d been anticipating all night. He turned around and let his hands fall to his side. Lisa stared at the bag and turned her eyes to him. “You’re leaving? Without saying goodbye to Ben?” He felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach and swallowed his spit.

Lisa’s eyes blazed as she stepped closer. “You are an idiot, Dean Winchester. I swear to God!” She turned away and threw her hands up. “What do I want? An apology. What do I get? He wants to fucking _move out_.”

“Lisa—”

“No!” she turned back towards him. “You had your chance to talk all night. This is my time!” She took a deep breath and started over.

“Dean, I am upset with you. You came home drunk last night. Ben could have seen you. That is not something that I want my son seeing. It was irresponsible, and I am mad at you. That being said, I do not want you gone. I do not want you to walk out on Ben or me like his father did. I do not want you to move out.” She held out her hands and waited for Dean to say something. His heart hammered against his chest and he swallowed heavily again.

“You’re not kicking me out?”

“No.”

“You don’t want me gone?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” They stood there until Lisa slowly approached him and sat down next to him on the bed. He remained standing until she wrapped his hand in hers and pulled him down next to her.

“We still need to talk. What you did last night is not acceptable.”

Dean came alive then, turning to face her and placing both hands on her waist as he knelt before her on the ground. “I know, Lis, and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are, Dean. But if that ever happens again… If you ever come home drunk again, that drunk, I don’t want you here.” She swallowed and averted her eyes, pushing his hands off of her waist. “You’ll have to leave, Dean.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

“Good.”

“Are we?” She placed her palm on his cheek, and he turned his head so he could kiss it.

“We are.” He smiled, and she rushed to add, “But you’re making dinner tomorrow!” He consented but tackled her to the bed before laying half on top of her and half on the memory foam that he so dearly loved. He curled against her body and tucked his nose into her neck.

“Thanks, Lis.” She made a contented sound and patted his head, running her fingers through his hair. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Starve and die, probably.”

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Hannah hated Balthazar and had no problem telling Castiel so every time she’d sleep with the blond man.

“He’s so rude, Castiel. Can you believe this morning he got up and made himself breakfast and didn’t offer me any? I don’t understand why you hang out with him? How do you even put up with him?” Hannah asked from where she was sitting on the couch while Cas made coffee, the one thing he could actually make without ruining.

“Probably for the same reason you do, Hannah,” he replied, adding a scoop of sugar to his mug.

“Good sex?”

“He’s my friend,” he bit through his teeth while Hannah smiled wickedly at him from the living room.

“Yeah, well he’s not my friend. I just— He pinched my ass! This morning, when I got up to pee, he reaches over and just… pinches! Who does that?” Hannah had shown up at Cas’ an hour earlier with donuts and an empty cup of joe. She had plopped down on his couch as Cas exchanged his robe for a shower and a pair of clean dress pants. Now she was under a tan afghan that Cas had bought from a flea market back in his college days.

“I mean, does he think that it’s complimentary? Because it’s not.” Hannah rolled over as Cas passed her a mug. The hand disappeared beneath the afghan again, the mug peeking out.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Hannah slipped a leg out from under the blanket and held her foot out for Cas.

“Paint my nails?”

“Another time, maybe.”

“You always say that, Cas. What’s the point of being an art history professor if you can’t paint the Mona Lisa on my nails?” The foot disappeared beneath the covers again, and Cas leaned against the arm of the couch while staring down at her.

“You’re right. I can’t believe I just wasted thousands of dollars on a pointless major. Remind me, which one of us has the job?” He smiled wryly down at her. She rolled her eyes but sat up.

“It’s not like I couldn’t find a job in finance if I wanted one. I just…”

“I know.” Castiel did know. He’d been completely for it when Hannah told him she wanted to take time off to travel after graduating, before settling behind a boring desk job. However, when she decided that she wanted nothing to do with her degree and wanted to do something that she loved without quite knowing what that was, it had been Dean who had gone against him in support of her. It had been one of their first big fights, and while Castiel had understood where his husband was coming from, he also knew that the two were completely beings and Dean surviving by bartending and Hannah doing the same were two completely different things. Hannah hadn’t spoken to him for a month after that, and Castiel figured he could have the two most important people in his life avoiding him or he could support her one hundred percent.

Hannah’s odd jobs over the years had taught her many things about herself that she hadn’t had time to learn in business school. For example, after becoming a nanny for a summer, she learned that she hated children. After working in a candy store for three weeks, she learned that she hated Castiel’s brother, Gabriel. She learned that she liked jumping out of things last fall as a skydiving instructor and had only lost the job after sleeping with a customer.

A customer that just so happened to be Balthazar.

Hannah’s odd jobs went from landscaping to lifeguarding to having a food truck. She grew cacti one summer in New York and directed hot air balloon rides in San Francisco. She tried modeling, acting, photography, Zumba, painting classes, necklace making, candle making, soap making, and bee farming.

None of which took as nicely as skydiving did. However, skydiving wasn’t too popular in December, and nobody was looking to hire in the city. She was trying to make pillows to sell online, but so far there were no buyers.

“Maybe you should try selling pot,” Castiel suggested. Hannah glared at him but then sat up with wide eyes.

“That’s a great idea. What if I sold decorated pots?”

“Uh, what?” Hannah was already reaching for her purse. She pulled out a small notebook and a pen, clicking the top.

“I’ll paint pots and write quirky stuff like book quotes or inspirational messages on them. Suburban moms love that stuff.” She scrawled something down on the paper and then passed the small moleskin journal to Castiel. There was a picture of a flower pot with a heart on it and some Tolkien quote. He looked back up at her and saw her searching for something on her phone.

“Hannah, what are you doing?”

“I’m seeing how cheap I can get them if I buy them in bulk.”

“Hannah, you haven’t even sold any of your pillows yet. Do not buy them in bulk.”

“Cas, this is genius though. Nobody wants to spend thirty dollars on a pillow with a heart on it. A pot on the other hand…” Castiel knew to let it be but returned to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. If he was going to listen to her explain this master plan all day, then he would need more caffeine.

Two days later, a potted sunflower appeared on the welcome mat outside his door in a white pot with bumble bees painted on the side and the words “bee happy”.  Castiel put the pot by a window and stood back admiring it from afar. It wasn’t half bad.

 

Cas didn’t typically venture to grocery stores outside of his normal route, but Balthazar was holding another “social” and ran out of vodka. Cas, happy to get some air and leave the crowded space, volunteered to make the run to the nearest store. So it’s not like he was trying to find Dean.

He’d been speeding passed the aisles, looking for the one with alcohol, when he bumped into someone. A basket fell on his foot and tipped over.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cas looked up and froze. Dean was staring back, and he looked just as surprised as he had at the airport. “Oh, Dean.”

“Yeah, hey.” Dean cleared his throat and bent to pick up his basket and the contents of it the same time that Cas did. He handed Dean a bag of carrots and frozen peas as Dean righted the soy sauce that had tipped over.

“Stir fry? You’re making stir fry?” Cas would remember those ingredients anywhere. It was one of the many things he had missed after leaving Dean. Mary’s stir fry recipe was one of Cas’ favorites and Dean used to make it for him during finals week when he was too stressed to be lured out for any other meal. _He’s making this for someone else_ , Cas knew somewhere in the back of his head.

Dean winced and shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Well, it’s a favorite, you know.”

“No, I wasn’t aware. In fact, I thought it was quite horrible.” Dean looked up sharply and realized he was teasing, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“Asshole.”

“You know it.” They shuffled their feet as the silence stretched on.

“I’m here for vodka,” Cas said finally. Dean’s head jerked up from where it had been focused on a smear on the floor.

“What?”

“I’m here for… Balthazar is throwing a party and ran out of vodka,” Cas explained sheepishly. Dean and Balthazar had always had a tension between them, and he knew that by mentioning his friend, Dean would stick around and talk longer.

“Already?”

“Well, you know how he is. He never packs enough so guests will start asking for his famous cocktails.”

“So he’s good?”

“He’s Balthazar.” Dean laughed, and Cas felt his heart stutter. He missed that laugh, the head tossed back, the crinkle around Dean’s eyes.

“So do you know where it is?” Dean eyed him.

“Where what is?”

“The vodka.” He smiled and pulled Cas around, walking in the direction that Cas had just come.

“You still can’t find your way around the grocery store,” Dean said fondly.

“Well, I never had to, since you insisted on doing all the cooking,” he teased.

“That was my survival instinct, Cas. We’d both be dead by now if I had let you make anything but coffee.”

“Hey, I made spaghetti that time.”

“Cas, honey, that was horrible.” Dean froze once he realized what he’d said.

“You got thirds, though.” Cas hoped if he kept talking, Dean would pretend it hadn’t slipped out.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he replied. They had reached the aisle of alcohol and were frozen at the end of it. Cas turned to face him.  Dean was glaring down at the floor, keeping his gaze focused on a hole in the tile. Cas winced at the comment. It was the truth. He knew Dean didn’t want to hurt him, but the indication that Cas had wanted any different still stung.

“Dean, I—”

“I should go, Cas. Carmen needs me to get home soon to start dinner.” Dean backed away from him and gave a small wave, still avoiding his gaze. Cas watched him pay for the groceries and leave without looking back.

Cas looked at the shelves of alcohol and grabbed whatever was nearest to him, which was a cheap bottle of white wine. When he returned to Balthazar’s, the blond man gave him a strange look as Cas passed over the bottle and watched as he grabbed his trench coat and excused himself for the night.

 

**After- One Month Later**

While John Winchester had been Dean’s only father, Dean had not been his only son. Obviously, there was Sam who fought him tooth and nail, but there was another kid added to the mix when Dean was eleven years old. Adam Milligan was the son of Kate, a nurse with not a lot of free time. When John’s friend, Caleb, got shot in a hunting accident, John went to visit him several days in a row. Of course, Caleb was not the one he was really visiting. Kate didn’t know about Mary until she was already pregnant.

John wanted to be there for Adam, and with Mary angry with him, leaving seemed the best option. Dean was a good son, always pleasant and obedient when his father would visit, but he never forgave the man for doing that to his mother. When Dean took off after high school, he didn’t tell his father. He took the Impala his father had passed down on Dean’s eighteenth birthday and left.

He had stopped considering the man a father years ago.

Bobby spent every Thanksgiving with the Winchesters since Dean could remember. He and the Harvelles would show up with the stuffing and liquor while Mary worked on the turkey and helped Dean with the sides. So when Dean was sixteen and Bobby offered Dean a few hours of work in the shop each week after school, Dean felt like he was with family.

However, he didn’t realize that the relationship went both ways until he returned to Lawrence, Kansas on Christmas Eve, six months after he had taken off. Sam and Mary had welcomed him with wide arms and cheek kisses. Sam still thought he was the coolest brother ever back then even though he wouldn’t admit it. Ellen had slapped him upside the head for running off without saying goodbye. When Dean hugged Bobby though, he felt a small piece inside of him shift. Both men pretended that the water in their eyes wasn’t there when they pulled away.

“Hey, Old Man. Still have an open space on the floor?” Dean had asked cockily, lifting his lips in a half smile.

“Yeah, I guess I could make room for you,” Bobby responded gruffly, looking at a blank space on the wall.

After Cas left, Mary had tried to convince Dean to move out of his apartment and back into her house. So he moved out. But instead of returning home, he moved into Bobby’s guest bedroom. And so he stayed there for a while, keeping up with his hectic work schedule so he wouldn’t have to think about what he was avoiding. Making trips to see Lisa when Bobby wouldn’t let him pick up another shift. One Saturday, the older man knocked on his door before the sun had even begun to rise.

“Get up, boy,” he grunted. Dean sleepily lifted his head and, after Bobby had disappeared, kicked back the sheets, groaning as he tried to get his achy bones out of bed. The hallway light was on, and Dean flinched under the sudden brightness.

“What the hell, Bobby!” The man was standing in front of the coffee maker in full on fishing gear. A fishing box was on the counter and several poles leaned against the table.

“Get dressed. We’re going out.” Bobby didn’t turn around as he told Dean. He divided the coffee between two thermoses and left them on the counter.

“Bobby, it’s…five in the morning. I have to be at the shop to open up today.”

“You’re not working today.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

“I’m your boss, boy, and you ain’t working today. I already got Randy coming in to make up the shift he missed last week, and I need a vacation day.” Bobby’s tone was no-nonsense, so Dean curiously pulled on his clothes and followed Bobby out to the truck where everything was already packed up.

The drive wasn’t too far. Bobby pulled the truck to the side of the road and got out. Dean didn’t think one could actually just leave their car there, but since Bobby had dragged him out of bed at this ungodly hour, Dean didn’t bother telling him so. They set up shop on the edge of the water, two chairs and a cooler between them. Bobby had a bucket of bait and they quietly hooked the worms and tossed their lines.

It was peaceful. Bobby didn’t talk, and Dean certainly didn’t look for conversation. Every second there reminded him of something Cas had said or done. The breeze was like the one that pushed them together for the first time. The bark of a nearby tree reminded him of Cas’ trench coat. The blue of the lake was born of the same blue of Cas’ eyes. Instead of thinking about the separation, Dean focused on the good they’d had together.

He remembered the feel of the coat against his skin as Cas swiftly flipped him over one night when they hadn’t completely ditched all of their clothes before making love. It had felt rough beneath his skin, and Dean had craved it for days after.

Looking at the lake, he remembered the time they took Sammy to Stanford, and they all visited the beach for a day. Cas’ skin had burned so easily. They’d gone through two tubes of aloe trying to keep the skin from stinging. Throughout the next few days though, Dean would look over at him and kiss the tip of his Rudolph nose, watching the skin turn white momentarily before reddening again.

Dean leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling the breeze caress his cheek, letting the sun kiss freckles onto his skin. This was nice. It was nice of Bobby to do, taking off work when there was so much to be done, and he knew he should be more grateful for the old bastard.

Bobby finally packed up around noon. They hadn’t caught anything, but it’d been nice anyway. On the ride back, he stopped for a burger at Garth’s and paid for Dean’s lunch.

“It’s on me, boy.” Dean eyed him suspiciously but went along with it.

“Thanks.”

The older man cleared his throat and set the burger down before wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Bobby,” Dean warned.

“Your mama’s worried about you, boy.” Bobby kept his gaze on the plate before him, wishing he was anywhere but here right now.

“Thanks for the message. I’m fine.”

“Dean.” Bobby’s voice was gruff but he wanted what was best for Dean, and Dean tried to keep that in mind as the older man continued to speak. “We’re all worried for you. We know that you’ve been having a hell of a time of it, but well, we don’t want you to kill yourself, boy.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” he replied resigned, trying to keep his voice even.

Bobby took a deep breath and said, “I’m cutting back your hours.”

“Bobby!”

“So is Ellen,” the man rushed to add.

“Bobby!” Dean ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the ceiling in prayer. “I want to work. I want to distract myself.”

“We know that, son, but we also know you need a break. Ignoring this is not going to bring Cas back. You wore yourself thin when you needed the money, but now you can take a break.”

“I don’t want a break,” he responded, giving in. Bobby reached across the table and wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist. It was a strange gesture, unfamiliar, but Dean didn’t mind it so much.

“You’ve carried a hell of a lot on your back, Dean. It’s time to put the load down.” He kept Dean’s eye contact until the younger boy nodded. Bobby pulled his hand back and rearranged his hat. He cleared his throat and picked up his burger again.

When they finished their meal, Dean made a trip to the bathroom while Bobby paid. Bobby snuck a slice of pie in a to-go box to keep for Dean later and headed out to the truck. As Dean was washing his hands in the bathroom, he strangely thought that he would have been proud to call Bobby his father.

 

**Before- Twenty**

Cas wasn’t sure when he’d stopped caring about having control. His first year of college, he’d lived with Andy whose side of the room was always a mess. While he hadn’t had any problems with Andy as a friend, he despised the boy as a roommate. There was always trash on the floor, empty popcorn bags, candy wrappers that were almost as bad as growing up with Gabe, and unfinished cups of yogurt that had been sitting out for days.

The next year, he’d had his own apartment and had kept everything in order, vacuuming once a week, dusting every two weeks and doing the dishes as soon as he was done, no matter what he was in the middle of doing. After he shaved, he rinsed down the sink, washing away any shorn hairs. He wouldn’t buy new groceries until everything in his fridge had been used (although this last one had more to do with his hatred of buying food and most of his meals consisted of canned soup and frozen lasagna).

But the first time he had Dean over at his place, Dean’s first words had been, “Wow, your place is really… clean,” and suddenly, Cas wondered if clean was really all he’d pumped it up to be. Dean kicked off his shoes and plummeted down on Cas’ couch, leering up at him seductively.

“You certainly didn’t waste any time making yourself at home,” Cas chastised.

“Oh, come on, Cas. I’ve already seen you naked,” he replied. Cas shot him a glare and threw his coat at him. Dean laughed as it hit him, and he dumped it on the floor. He pulled off his own jacket, a sliver of skin peeking out from under his shirt, and Cas thought, no, maybe messy isn’t so bad after all.

 

Their relationship didn’t begin or end clean. Castiel wouldn’t have called it messy either, but looking back after everything that happened, he would say something along the lines of, “Well, it’s not all that surprising.” His past relationships had been neat, clean cut, ordered, not that there was anything wrong with those. He cared deeply for each person he’d been with, but Dean had dragged him in with no sense of direction or care for one.

Their first night together had been sweaty and drunken. Cas barely remembered anything from the night before except that he’d been flirting with the nice mechanic who fixed his car the month before and at some point he’d climbed into the largest blackest car he’d ever seen.

Castiel didn’t do one nights stands often. He wasn’t against them. He’d just never felt the need to go out and get laid. However that doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. The common factor of every one night stand Castiel had had was one man. Balthazar.

He’d dragged Castiel out the night before to celebrate the Fourth of July the “proper way” even though Cas had repeatedly told the man he wasn’t American.

“It comes down to the principal of things, Cassie.” Cas had known when he met Balthazar and the man had used Gabriel’s nickname for him that he would often times in the future look back in regret ever becoming friends with the blond. “I’ve been in this country for a good while now. It’s time I enjoy some of their finer customs.”

“Getting drunk out of your mind?”

“That’s right.”

So Castiel had begrudgingly followed the older boy to the Roadhouse where he found himself nursing a beer at the bar while Balthazar entertained three college girls in a booth. While the brunette behind the bar passed Castiel another beer, a slender body pressed against his back.

“Hey, Ellen, two more?” Castiel cleared his throat and pushed back against the body that was trapping him against the bar. The man apologized and did a double take. Castiel blinked at the blond man standing before him realizing he knew him.

“Hey, you’re that—”

“You fixed my—”

They spoke at the same time. Castiel blushed and thumbed at the wrapper on his bottle as Ellen placed two fresh bottles before the other man.

“Uh…” Dean stood there for a moment and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Castiel. Milton.”

“Right. I’m Dean Winchester.” They stood there again and Dean smiled helplessly at him. “Well, it was good to see you then. Have a happy Fourth.” He patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk away, but Castiel hopped off his stool and called out, “My car works now.”

Dean paused. “Yeah, that’s kinda my job.” He set the bottles back on the bar and leaned against it, watching Castiel.

“I mean, it works way better than what you charged me for,” Castiel explained. “So I wanted to thank you.”

“Yeah, well, no problem, buddy,” Dean said. “See you around.” He patted his shoulder again and walked away. Castiel climbed back onto the stool and ordered something stronger.

“Hey.” Castiel looked over his shoulder to where the blond was still standing. “You know, my buddies and I are sitting over there if you want to join us.” He pointed to the large booth in the corner and waited. Ellen returned with his shot, and Castiel downed it before following Dean to the corner.

Everything after that was a blur the next morning, but Castiel knew he went home with someone and that he certainly got the receiving end of things if the pain in his ass was anything to go by.

He smelled bacon and pushed back the comforter. He couldn’t find his boxers anywhere so he pulled the sheet loose and wrapped it around him, opening the door a crack to look for any signs of lifeforms. He slipped into the hall and tiptoed over the carpeted floor. In the living room, he found his boxers thrown over a lampshade, and he quickly pulled them on. He followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen where Dean was cooking up a batch of something in the skillet.

Castiel clutched the sheet tighter around his shoulders and watched Dean’s back muscles move as he shuffled the frying pan around. The man leaned over to look into the fridge, and Cas took a moment to appreciate the sight he was presented with. As far as one night stands go, Cas thought, he could have done a lot worse. Dean moved swiftly around the kitchen, pulling ingredients from different cabinets and drawers. He cooked with skill and love and maybe a bit of habit.

Cas took a step further into the kitchen, and the floor creaked. Dean jumped and spun around.

“Jeez, Cas. Give a guy some warning next time.” Cas approached the blond man, leaving into his side to  look into  the pan.

“Chocolate chip pancakes!” He beamed at Dean whose cheeks began to redden. Anna used to make them for Gabriel as a hangover cure back when they still lived under the same room. Cas’ stomach growled, and Dean grinned salaciously at him.

“See now, that’s a warning. If I don’t get food in you soon, you’ll die of hunger.” The man scooped two pancakes onto a plate and handed it to Cas. “There’s bacon on the table.”

“I don’t think I can stomach anything,” Cas protested. He felt like he would puke any second now, but the chocolate chips smelled so good.

“I don’t think you have anything left to throw up,” the man replied with a grimace.

Cas blushed and hid his face in his hands, pressing closer against Dean’s side. “Oh God, please don’t tell me I threw up on you.”

“Me? No. There was just a lot of spewing into my toilet at six in the morning.” He added chocolate chips to the cooking pancakes, and Cas thought he really would be sick again, if not from drinking too much than definitely from mortification.

“Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry.” Dean laughed at his humiliation and flipped the pancakes.

“It’s okay, Cas. It’s not like you’re the first to throw up in my toilet. Trust me. I’ve seen my fair share of puking into the porcelain throne.There’s some Advil on the table too.” Cas sat down, letting the sheet drop and swallowed down the pill with a gulp of orange juice. His stomach fought the new guest for a moment before giving in and accepting the food begrudgingly. The pancakes melted so warmly on his tongue that he moaned around the metal fork.

“Jeez, Cas. Save that for after breakfast.” Cas looked over at the man who was smirking at him from the stove. He licked his lips and Dean’s smile fell. “Cas…”

“You made this?” Cas asked as he took another forkful. Dean shrugged, back to the brunet sitting half naked at his table, and flipped the pancake in the skillet. “This is incredible, Dean.”

“It’s my mom’s recipe. I just pour in the ingredients, and it does all the work.” He played indifference, but Cas noticed the small smile gracing his lips when he turned his back.

“Come here.” Dean looked up and watched him carefully for a moment before stepping away from the stove. He walked to Cas’ side and leaned in, hand resting on the table. Cas grabbed the man’s head and pulled him down into a warm kiss. He sucked Dean’s lip, the blond man groaning and pulling Cas closer. He took a moment to taste Dean Winchester, to catch a flavor and savor it. Then he pulled away and kissed the taller man’s nose.

“Thank you, Dean.” Dean pulled back, eyes blown wide with want.

“That’s one hell of a thank you, Cas.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure you got the message.” Cas ran his hand through the blond hair, squeezing it tightly. Dean purred beneath his hand and pressed their foreheads together.

“Loud and clear.” He leaned forward and captured the dark haired man in another kiss. His tongue slipped between Cas’ lips, and Cas thought that the only thing better tasting than chocolate chip pancakes was Dean Winchester.

He sat up. The pancakes. “Dean.” He pulled away, Dean following his lips until he realized they weren’t coming back.

“The pancakes? You’ll burn them if we get into that now.” Dean nodded and dropped his head onto his arms, releasing a long sigh.

“Right.” He straightened up and returned to the stove, readjusting himself much to Cas’ pleasure. He turned off the burner and scooped the breakfast out onto a plate, settling at the table beside Cas. They ate in silence, feet tangled together beneath the table, caressing shins.

“So,” Dean said after getting up to refill Cas’ orange juice. “I haven’t seen you at the Roadhouse before.” Cas speared a strip of bacon and scooped a chuck of pancake onto the fork, shoving it into his mouth.

“I live about forty-five minutes east of here. My friend, Balthazar, lives nearby, and we were celebrating the holiday together while my family’s out of town. He took me with him last night but ditched me for three blondes and a red head.”

“He was the English guy, right?”

“According to him, he’s universal,” Cas replied with an eye roll. Dean smiled over his glass.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you technically ditched him for a mechanic in a leather jacket.” Cas looked over, eyebrows arched in surprise, and Dean explained further. “I got a text this morning from Jo— she’s Ellen’s daughter; Ellen’s the bartender— and apparently, he was searching for you all last night after we left.” Dean took a sip of juice. “I guess you weren’t answering your phone or something?” He played innocent, and Cas pushed his plate back, done with the meal.

“Yeah, I must have been busy.” He leaned over and pulled Dean’s head back to his, wrapping him up in a warm kiss. He remembered a flash from the night before, Dean fumbling with the condom, sucking at his neck, lining up and missing his hole until Cas took control. Dean’s hands slid up Cas’ thigh, scrunching the boxers up.  His nails dug into Cas’ legs, and the dark haired man released a drawn out moan.

“Cas...” The two bodies stood together, and Dean buried his face in Cas’ neck, biting and sucking bruises into the soft skin. Cas pulled on the waistband of Dean’s jeans, trying to undo the top button and pull them down. He yanked on the zipper, but it was stuck. Dean snorted against his neck and nipped at his earlobe.

“Shut up,” Cas said, finally getting the top button undone. “Who the fuck puts on jeans to make breakfast anyway?”

“For your information, I was trying to convince you to give me a blow job before you left by making my ass look great. Clearly, it’s working.” Cas finally got the zipper down and tugged the denim down Dean’s legs. His knees dropped to the floor and he kissed and bit at Dean’s muscled thighs.

“Baby, if you wanted your ass to look great, you shouldn’t have bothered putting on pants at all,” Cas huffed, a bit annoyed at having fallen for the trick. He slid his hands under Dean’s boxers and gripped said ass cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart as he sucked red marks into his skin.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out, headed thrown back, one hand in Cas’ hair the other holding him against the table. “Fuck, baby.” Cas slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled down, watching as his cock bobbed out half-hard already, slick dotted at the tip. Cas moaned and buried his head in Dean’s pubic hair, tugging at his balls with one hand and pressing hungry kisses into the base of his dick.

“Protection?” he asked, pulling back for a moment. Dean looked down, so he added, “Sorry, buddy, but I’m not getting herpes while you get a blow job.” Dean looked annoyed for a moment but stepped back.

“That’s perfect, Cas,” Dean remarked. “Talking about STDs always gets me going.” He picked up his jeans from the floor and pulled out a condom, tearing it open before sliding it on. Cas spread his legs wider on instinct, imagining the feel of that thick cock pressing into his hole. He moaned, his own cock hanging heavy between his legs, and gripped himself in his hand before licking a stripe up the underside of Dean’s dick.

He dropped his jaw and took the head in his mouth, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. Then he wrapped his lips tightly around and swallowed it down. He opened his throat, taking more and more in until his nose pressed into Dean’s pubic hair. Dean exhaled slowly, petting Cas’ face, and Cas hummed, vibrations wrapping around the cock until Dean’s head fell back.

“Fuck!” Dean’s hips jerked forward, the grip on Cas’ hair tightening. “Jesus, Cas.” Cas purred as the hand in his hair yanked his head this way and that way, and he finally pulled back before bobbing his head up and down. Dean moaned again, and his hand that was propped on the table, dropped to an elbow. Cas fondled his balls in one hand, tugging and pulling while working himself with the other. Dean was letting out breathy little gasps, and Cas hummed again around the weight in his mouth, the pressure down below building up in his stomach.

He trailed two fingers up Dean’s stomach, stopping to flick a nipple and held them expectantly up to his lips. Dean wrapped his lips around them, soaking them in his spit, tongue slipping between the two, and Cas pulled them back and under Dean to the hole behind his perineum. Dean spread his legs, propping one up on a chair as Cas circled his rim. The circle of muscle begged for Cas fingers, and he obliged, sticking one in to the first knuckle. Dean’s hips jerked again. He was holding back out of politeness, but Cas wasn’t on his knees for politeness, so he slid his finger in deeper, pressing around until—

“Ah! Right there. There, Cas— Jesus!” The man’s hips were bucking faster now, and Cas could feel his tears in his eyes as his throat begged to close up. Dean locked his hands in Cas’ hair so the man could no longer move his head and fucked his mouth, Cas’ finger sliding in and out of his hole. He slipped in another watched as Dean’s head fell back, mouth open. His orgasm washed over him, hips out of control as Cas sucked every last drop out of Dean and into the condom. He wanted to taste him, to prove that he could swallow it all. He massaged Dean’s prostate until his grip in Cas’ hair loosened, and he fell back, pulling out a chair to slide onto.

Cas’ thighs burned as he used his free hand to tug on his balls. Dean reached out and pressed his thumbs between Cas’ lips, wiping the tears from the creases of his eyes with his index fingers. “That’s it, baby. You’re almost there.”

Cas pumped his fist faster, tighter, sucking on Dean’s thumb, pulling it deeper into his mouth. Dean gripped his hair again and pulled the man closer. He kissed him hungrily and whispered hard against his lips, “Come for me, angel.” Cas’ hips jerked forward and his thighs tightened as he bucked into his fist. Cum splattered the floor, and Dean stroked his cheek whispering, “That’s it. That’s it, angel.”

Cas sat back on his knees, heart pounding against his chest. He dropped his head to Dean’s thighs. A hand patted his head before stroking his hair. They sat in a comfortable, tired silence until his knees hurt too much to stay on the cracked linoleum. He slowly got to his feet and kissed Dean hard once more. Dean’s jaw dropped open, exhausted, and Cas pressed his tongue to the back of Dean’s mouth, devouring, hungry with want. He pulled back, hand removing the used condom and tying it off before dropping it in the trash.

“Shit,” he said once they got their breaths back. “I guess those jeans really work miracles.” Dean huffed a laugh and pulled Cas’ body flush against his.

“I’ll say,” he replied, voice low. Cas sat down in a chair, and Dean, legs weak, sat bare-assed on the table before him.

After a while, Cas helped Dean clean up the mess in the kitchen, and they moved to the shower where Dean hungrily returned the favor. They toweled off, and Dean gave him a ride back to Ellen’s where Cas leaned against Baby’s door, kissing and biting some more before reluctantly crawling back into his small car. He buckled his seat belt and pulled away from the old bar, hand wrapped around his phone in which the number of a very sexy mechanic was now recorded.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Dean was the first person Sam called when he found out the news.

“Jess is pregnant, dude.” Sam’s voice thick with nervous excitement. In the background he could hear Jess squealing, probably on the phone with her mother.

“Uh, what?” Dean was currently sprawled naked across his bed, reading through his battered copy of _Cat’s Cradle._

“We’re having a baby. Well, I mean, she’s having the baby, but we’re gonna… yeah.” Sam took a deep breath. “You’re gonna be an uncle, Dean.” Dean’s heart thudded heavily in his chest, because Sam had just been a baby, and it wasn’t possible that he was going to have one already.

“I thought you guys were going to wait?” He didn’t want to sound against it, but Sam had just graduated from Stanford last year, and now he and Jess were having a baby.

“Well, yeah, we were, but you know, sometimes things just happen.”

“Where are you going to live? You’ve got no money. You’ll be paying off student loans until you’re eighty if you have a kid now.”

“Well, I’ve been looking for jobs in Lawrence, hopping to move back, and I have a skype interview next week.” Sam’s words were quick and annoyed. “Why aren’t you happy about this? We’re going to have a baby!” Dean sat up in his bed, reaching for a pair of pants.

“I am happy, Sam. I just want to make sure that you guys have thought this through first. I mean, where are you going to live? Are you moving back in with mom? What about Jess? Is she going to look for a job in the hospital or is she going to stay home?”

“This isn’t the eighteen hundreds, Dean. Women can work and have children now. Besides, we weren’t really thinking of living with Mom…” Sam’s voice trailed off, and if Dean hadn’t still been so flabbergasted by this whole situation he would have noticed the nervous undertone of it.

“I know, Sam. I just… Wait, what are you saying?”

“Well, we thought we could help you and Carmen with rent for a while. You’ve got the guest room, and until we find a more permanent solution, I was hoping you’d help us out.” Dean could see Sam’s hopeful smile and puppy dogs eyes over the line and knew he was screwed. He sighed heavily and rubbed at his jaw, scratching the hairs that he would probably have to shave before going in to work tomorrow.

“You know, that’s fine, Sammy. Wouldn’t there be more room at Mom’s though?”

“Well, yeah, but if she’s planning on selling the house, there’s not really any reason to move in if we’ll just have to move out again.” There was a loud banging noise in the background and Jess yelled out in pain. Sam yelled something back in the distance, phone pulled away from his mouth.

“She’s selling the house?” Mary hadn’t said anything about moving to Dean, and he was wondering if the water his brother was drinking out there in California had been drugged with hallucinogens.

“Yeah, when Jess and I were there for her birthday, she asked me to go through some of our old toys to see what we could get rid of.” There was a pause and then, “She didn’t tell you?” Dean made a noise into the phone that could have been a no but also could have been a dying whale. Sam was saying something else into the phone, but Dean wasn’t hearing him.

“Congrats on the baby, Sammy. I gotta go.” He ended the call and fell back on the bed.

 

Dean’s childhood home was light green and had a bay window that was hidden behind a tree. When Dean was a boy, he used to sit in front of the bay window and draw outlines of the shapes of the sun spiking between the tree limbs. Mary still has a box of all these drawings in the attic with Sam’s high school degree and Dean’s Mother’s Day cards. The attic was full of the Winchester’s history. She still had her father’s old hunting rifle and a quilt that her grandmother had made.

In plastic containers and tubs, the story of Dean’s family was boxed away. Mary’s prom dress was packed away in a tub with her college clothes that she still dreams of fitting into one day. Sam’s baseball card collection is stored in a smaller box in the eastern corner of the attic. By the Christmas ornaments was a plastic tub of Dean’s baby clothes that she’d always thought she would use to make a baby blanket if Dean ever had kids.

She had started on it after Cas and Dean’s wedding, but when the divorce was finalized, she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it and instead buried it at the bottom of the tub to stay hidden until children became a possibility for him again.

She forgot about the blanket for the most part until one day when she was going through their things and came across the tub. She’d woken that Saturday morning to the coolness of the air conditioning, which had manipulated her into believing the attic wouldn’t be scorching, regardless of the fact that it was a hot day in August. She had tossed the boxes of Sam’s old homework down the steps when she heard a surprised scream from below. She peeked down from the top of the foldout stairs.

“Dean? What are you doing here, sweetie?” The man had almost gotten crushed by the box but had dived out of the way just quick enough to avoid a light concussion. Mary hadn’t heard anyone come in, which was slightly concerning to her. She didn’t like living alone. It was fine when Dean and Cas had been together, because she’d always know while her son was working all the time that Cas would at least answer his phone if anyone was in the house to harm her.

Now, Carmen and Dean worked such long hours and forgot to turn their phones back on so often that it was more likely for Mary Winchester to just get her information from Sam. Had she not been in the attic all morning, she would have known that Sam did call her thirty minutes before to let her know that Dean was coming over and that she should call him back to hear about some exciting news of his.

As it was, Mary was very happy to see her eldest son standing at the foot of the stairs. She wiped sweat from her forehead as smiled down as he began to climb up.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, finally reaching the top. “It’s too hot for you to be up here on your own, Mom.” Mary rolled her eyes at her eldest son’s concerns as if she hadn’t gone through menopause and all the fun hot flashes that came with that.

“I’m getting rid of stuff, dear. I can’t believe that the three of us have accumulated so much junk over the last…”

“Thirty years?” he smiled wryly at his mother and leaned over one tub with his hands on his knees, peering in. “Hey! These are the Christmas ornaments I made in elementary school!” He pulled out a paper reindeer with purple pipe cleaner antlers and a red pompom nose.

“You’re not getting rid of this, are you?” Of course, it was just like her son to ignore all his junk until Mary went to get rid of it.

“Of course not. Your school work on the other hand…” She nodded to the box she’d tossed down the stairs and turned towards a box of Little Golden Books that she’d read to her sons before bed every night. She heard him looking through stuff behind her as she put the lib back on the box and pushed it into the corner.

“I talked to Sam this morning,” he began. She ‘hmm’ed and opened a tub of John’s baseball trophy’s that she’d never realized were still here. “He said something really weird. Well, two things that were weird, but one that he has to tell you.”

“Is that so, sweetie?” She picked up a photo of her and John right before Dean was born. In it, her belly was swollen and she wondered if her maternity clothes were still around here somewhere. Now _those_ clothes were made for comfort.

“Sam told me that you’re thinking of moving out.” She froze with the picture frame still in her hand and slowly turned to face him.

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?” He was avoiding her gaze. Dean had rarely been mad at his mom. Only twice in his entire memory and both times were in high school when puberty was at its high and Mary wouldn’t let him go to a party.

“Dean, your brother’s found a home with Jess. He lived here, but it was never the same. To him, this house is full of fights with your father. He left as soon as he could.”

“I disappeared for a year, Mom. I didn’t exactly stick around either.” Mary sighed and sat down, pack to the box.

“But you came back, sweetie. Sam’s stuff is just stuff.  He looks at his old Christmas ornaments and sees the Christmas John grounded him for sneaking out of the house without a coat on to play in the snow. To you, these are memories of making gingerbread cookies for Sam when he got a cold. You two see things differently, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re nostalgic.” She paused, and he pushed around the clothing in the tub below him. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry.” He nodded, and she knew that the ordeal was over. Fanning herself, she watched as a wrinkle appeared between his brow, and he pulled something out of the carton.

“What’s this?” She looked at the soft material in his hands and smiled.

“A baby blanket from your old clothes.” He fingered the material gently and held it up to his nose, breathing in the clean smell. “I thought you might like to give it to any children you might have.” He looked genuinely touched for a moment before confusion covered his features again.

“You thought I’d be having some soon?” He smiled up at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Are you telling me you and Carmen won’t be giving me any little babies to play with?”

“Not anytime soon, no,” he replied, flipping the material in his hands. “We both work too much. You know that. Besides, the rent’s not cheap.”

Mary eyed her son doubtfully and tested the waters. “That’s an old one of course. I’d probably have to start over again if Carmen was pregnant.”

“Why? The clothes won’t get any newer,” Dean said. He eyed her, and she noticed the way he carefully folded the cloth back in half.

“Because I started that one when you were with Cas.” Dean’s hands froze over the material, and he slowly lowered it back into the ben, smoothing down the corners. She couldn’t see his face, but his tense shoulders gave away his surprise. He cleared his throat and put the lid back on the container.

“No, don’t…” He stood up, brushing off his knees. “Keep that one.” Mary sat down on a tub and watched her son push the plastic ben onto the side with the Christmas ornaments before opening a box of him and Sam’s army men.

“Hey! I remember these!”

 

**After- Five Months Later**

Anna had been surprised when Cas _didn’t_ name the cat after a Renaissance painter. After he’d opened the door and held up a gray ball of fluff, she’d been expecting him to say, “Anna, this is Michelangelo. The cat, not the screensaver on my laptop. That’s a Raphael.”

Instead, the scenario had gone more like this: “Anna, I’d like you to meet Sir Frederick Flufferkins. He’s pleased to make your acquaintance.” The poor cat had one eye and loose patches of hair. He looked about as happy to be in Cas’ arms as their father had looked before going in for his colonoscopy. The cat released a long meow to show his protestation, and Cas pulled Anna into the apartment, closing the door behind her before letting the beast down.

“Cas, you know I love you, but have you lost your fucking mind?” Anna hadn’t known her brother to particularly be in favor of animals in the past, but she didn’t even know where he had come across such a sorry looking cat. No pound would have kept that thing alive long enough for a kind soul like Castiel’s to wander in one day. Not to mention, he’d never actually had to keep anything alive before. Except himself, but Anna and Gabriel checked in on him regularly to make sure their baby brother had gotten his three meals a day and brushed his teeth. Well, not really, but that’s how it made Cas feel when they called to ask him how he was.

“Don’t say that. He’ll hear you.” Her brother looked nervously behind him, but Sir Federick Flufferkins seemed to have disappeared. “He’s already suspicious of me.” When he turned back around, Anna’s expression of concern and confusion hadn’t fallen yet.

“I found him on the street this morning after my run. He looked so pitiful covered in mud and leaves. I wasn’t going to bring him home but…” Cas wasn’t going to bring him home, because he could hear Dean’s voice in his head telling him that he’d do exactly that someday and that Cas wouldn’t be able to keep it. Last night however, the divorce had been finalized and he’d needed something to forget. A change. Sir Flufferkins had been just that.

“And you named him Sir Flufferkins?” Anna asked, astounded.

Cas shifted uncomfortably. “There’s a little girl on the first floor who saw him today, and she wanted to name him that so I just…”

Cas turned around again to start looking for the pathetic creature to make sure he wasn’t scratching up another wall. Anna’s gasp made him spin back around, and he realized she was staring at his neck. He remembered the deep scratches Sir Flufferkins had left on the back of his neck this morning when Cas had tried bringing him back to his apartment. He had forgotten about them after trying to wash the gray feline and gaining ten more up and down his arms, shredding his sweatshirt.

Now, Anna was approaching him with a mothering look in her eyes. She pulled him down to the couch and disappeared into his bathroom for a moment to grab the rubbing alcohol and some band aids. When she returned, she sat on the edge of his coffee table and turned his head to the side.

“Oh, Cas…” The wounds were deep then. “I’ll have to pick up some stain remover spray. You’ve got blood all over the collar of this sweatshirt now.” Cas felt guilty as his sister cleaned the wound, but once it was bandaged, he met her gaze and saw her smiling down at him.

“You’re a good man, you know that, Castiel Milton?” He felt uncomfortable under her gaze and tried to stand, but she placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him down.

“You aren’t getting off that easily, brother. I know what this is about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Anna.”

“Cas—”

“Why can’t you just let me be happy?” He hadn’t meant to snap, especially not at Anna. The words rushed out of his mouth, even as he tried to reel them back in. “Why can’t I do anything without Gabriel and you calling me constantly and babying me? I’m not a child! I don’t need you!” Anna’s lips trembled, and she averted her gaze. The line had already been cast, and he couldn’t even chase it with apologies, because he was too stubborn to back down. Anna stood and pulled her purse over her shoulder, heading to the door.

“No, Anna, wait! Don’t go. I didn’t mean—”

“I knew just what you meant, _Castiel_ ,” she bit out with venom lining every word. “Well, guess what? Worrying means I care, you idiot. Maybe if you knew that, you’d still be married.” She slammed the door behind her and stormed down the hall, heels clacking behind her. Cas fell back into the couch cushions and rubbed his face with his palms. He ran hand through his hair and down his neck, hissing as the bandage was loosened.

“Meeooow.” He looked to his right and saw Sir Flufferkins resting at his side. As Cas stared, the cat tilted his head to the side and stared back.

“Goddammit.” He had meant to ask Anna for recommendations on cat food.

A week later, a UPS man showed up with a big cardboard box, asking Castiel to sign. Cas cut open the box to find a fifteen pound bag of pristine cat food, so he knew all was forgiven. Sir Flufferkins jumped in the box and began scratching away at the bottom.

 

**Before- Twenty**

Dean called Cas first. The school year had just started back up and Cas’ workload was pretty heavy for September, but when he saw the text wanting to know if he was down for a hookup, he replied almost immediately with his location. Dean got to the campus within the hour, and Cas told Balthazar goodbye before running down the stairs of his apartment building to the long black car.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Dean smirked as soon as Cas slammed the door shut behind him. Cas crawled over the long seat and pulled the driver down into a heated kiss.

“Hey, yourself.” He curled against Dean’s side as the car pulled away, maneuvering Dean’s right hand between his thighs. The hand squeezed hard, and Cas nipped at his ear.

“Easy, angel. We’re headed back to my place unless you want to pay of a ticket for pulling over on a busy highway to make out.”

“I could pay it,” Cas argued, palming at Dean’s lap. He could hear Dean’s breathing getting heavy and he started to undo his pants.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, pulling Cas’ hands away. “Well, I can’t. So you’re just gonna have to wait until we get back to my place.” He gave Cas’ thigh another quick squeeze and Cas buried his face in Dean’s neck. The drive back was only about twenty minutes, but Cas was horny as hell and Dean smelled so good.

Somewhere on the stairwell between the second and third floor, they started kissing, and it took a few minutes to get down the hall and to Dean’s room. Cas refused to let go of the grip he had on Dean’s ass, squeezing and pulling him closer, so Dean shoved him down onto the couch, pulling his flannel shirt off. Cas finally pulled his hands away and started to tug at Dean’s undershirt, pushing it up to suck on a nipple. Dean groaned beneath him and bucked against his abdomen. He teased the bud, rolling it around his tongue, and blew a breath of cool air on it. Dean shivered and stared down at the college boy below him, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, Dean?” The man on Cas’ lap fell backwards and Cas spun around to see where the small voice came from. In the doorway to what Cas presumed, and hoped to find out later, was the bedroom was a small teenager with shaggy hair. Dean stood up quickly, readjusting himself before turning around.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I, uh, Dad had called earlier and Mom was crying.” The boy shuffled awkwardly and avoided looking in Cas’ direction. “I tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up our phone so I got Jo to give me a ride… What’s going on?”

Oh Christ. Cas buttoned his pants. The last thing he needed right now was to be messing around with a closeted asshole whose little brother just found out his big secret.

“I was just…” Dean looked over his shoulder and saw Cas tucking his shirt back in. “Wait, Cas! What are you doing?” Cas headed to the door and yanked it open, pulling out his phone as he did so. Balthazar would be ecstatic to hear of Cas’ failed hookup. A hand slammed the door shut and turned Cas around.

Cas breathed in deeply and held up his hand. “Dean, I’m not messing with a guy who’s not out, okay?” The taller boy stepped back in surprise and gaped.

“No, I’m out. I mean, I’m really out. It’s just…” He looked over his shoulder and then back at Cas. “Could you stay here for one second? Just stay. Don’t leave or anything.” Dean looked sincere so Cas consented, taking a seat on the couch as Dean and Sam disappeared into the bedroom. He could hear their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying, and about ten minutes later, Dean opened the door and returned to the living room.

“Hey,” he said, approaching Cas who sat up attentively, concerned for the two boys.

“Is everything alright?” Cas asked, standing as Dean pulled his flannel back on.

“Yeah, I have to take Sammy back home and take care of some stuff though. I’ll take you back to your apartment, but…”

“No, I totally understand,” he replied, pulling out his phone again. “Don’t worry about taking me home. I’ll call my roommate and get him to pick me.” They all shuffled into the hallway, Dean locking the door behind him, Sam resembling a sad puppy with his eyes focused on the ground.

Dean watched Cas for a moment and gave a small smile.

“Hey, you wanna meet my mom?” Cas and Sam’s heads jerked up in surprise at the statement. Cas had never met a hookup’s mother. He wondered what Dean’s would be like. Sam’s mouth was in the shape of an ‘o’ as he stared up at Dean.

“Uh,” the silence stretched on, “sure.” So he followed the boys out to the parking lot. Sam slid into the backseat after he and Dean exchanged a long look, so Cas climbed into the front. Dean got in on the other side and started the engine. The exited the parking lot in an awkward silence. As the car hit the main road, a hairy head popped between their seats.

“So Cas, how long have you known Dean?”

“Sammy—“

“Oh, come on, Dean. I’m just asking a question.” The boy smiled cheekily over at his brother and turned back to Cas.

“You don’t have to answer any of his questions, Cas,” Dean warned him, an apology in his eyes.

“No, it’s fine,” Cas told him. Then he turned to Sam, “We met in June. Dean saved me from being stranded in the middle of nowhere.” Sam snorted.

“Yeah, he’s a regular hero like that,” he teased, turning to watch Dean’s expression.

“Clam it, Sam,” Dean growled, pretending annoyance. Sam grinned and turned back to Cas.

“So are you in college then?”

“Yes, I am. Are you?” Cas responded, knowing full well that the boy wasn’t out of middle school.

“Ha! No, I’m in the eleventh grade.” Well, Cas could honestly say that he wasn’t expecting that. The surprise must have shown on his face, because Sam rolled his eyes. “I know, I look young for my age,” he joked, obviously used to Cas’ reaction.

“Just a little,” he replied.

“Was that supposed to be a pun?” Sam wondered, a confused expression on his face.

“Do you know where you want to go to school?” Cas asked, changing the subject. The car grew quiet as Sam looking dejectedly down at his hands and Dean stared out the window.

“I don’t know yet,” Sam told him, sounding like he knew full well where he wanted to go.

“Well, there’s plenty of time to figure it out. I’m at KU currently, and I like it there. You should totally tour some over summer though,” he recommended. Sam sat up eagerly.

“I know. When my friend’s brother moved in to KU, I got to go along. It was awesome. I also want to check out KSU and…” Sam’s puppy dog expression was back, and Dean looked pained, gaze still focused on the dark road ahead.

“And…”

“Stanford.” Ah, so the boy wanted to go far away. Cas watched Dean’s face for any sign of dislike towards the idea, but he kept his expression schooled.

“Well, that’s an excellent choice, but it’s a bit expensive.” Sam just nodded and picked at his nail. “I suppose you could get scholarships, but then you’d be stuck with those stick thin Californians.” Dean smiled over at him and held out his hand, palm up on the seat between them. Cas gripped it in his and turned back to Sam.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to find a decent burger anywhere.”

The car pulled into a small driveway, and Dean cut the engine. Sam clobbered out of the vehicle slamming the door behind him and ran up to the door. Cas climbed out of the Impala and stretched his legs. Dean rejoined him, and together they stepped through the wet grass.

“I’m really sorry about tonight.”

“Hey, so I get to meet my hookup’s mother instead of getting laid. That just makes us unpredictable,” Cas teased. Dean grinned, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t sound bad at all.” Dean took Cas’ hand in his. He opened the front door and held out his arm. Cas stepped through.

“Dean?” A woman’s voice came from the left, and a moment later, a thin blonde entered the hallway and froze once she noticed Cas. “Oh, you must be the boy Sam mentioned. Hello there.” Cas held out his hand and she shook it. Dean closed the door behind them and leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

“Hey, Mom. You okay?” She released Cas’ hand and nodded, patting her eldest son on the cheek.

“Of course. Sam was just overreacting. Your father wants you boys to visit for Thanksgiving, and I was telling him it was up to you two. He didn’t like that very much, I’m sorry to say.” Dean rubbed her arm sympathetically, and Cas stood there wondering what he should do. Mary took care of that though when she wrapped her arm around Cas’ and pulled him into the kitchen where Sam was sitting with a bowl of ice cream in front of him.

Sam scooted the tub of vanilla bean towards him, and Mary pulled some bowls from a cabinet. Cas sat down beside Dean. A moment later, a socked foot was creeping up Cas’ pant leg. Mary placed the bowls before the older boys and sat down.

“So Cas, what do you do?”

“Mom, Cas already got the third degree from Sam on the way here.” Dean grinned at Cas apologetically, and Cas felt his heart thump against his chest and a dorky smile come over his lips.

“It’s okay, Dean.” The two grinned like idiots for a moment before he turned to Mary. “I’m studying at KU. I’m a double major in Religious Theory and the Visual Arts.”

“I didn’t know that,” Dean said, leaning closer. “Does that mean that you can draw and stuff?”

“Eh, I’m better at analyzing the art than I am at drawing, but painting is my area of emphasis which actually involves a lot more drawing than one would think.”

“What year are you?” Mary asked, leaning against the opposite side of the island.

“I’m a junior. I’ll be graduating next year and starting my graduate studies, hopefully at KU again.” The ice cream melted on Cas’ tongue, and Dean’s heel slid further up his leg. In the two times that they’d been together, Cas had gathered that Dean Winchester was very talented with his feet. It wasn’t simple to play footsie in just any position, but he made it look easy as cake.

“You don’t want to go anywhere else? Travel any?” Dean looked confused as to why Cas would want to go to even more school, but he didn’t say anything and Cas just shrugged.

“I like where I’m at. I like what I’m doing. I have friends and family around here. I have no reason to leave,” he told him.

“Yeah, but don’t you ever want to go somewhere where no one will know who you are? Where you can do whatever you want without being judged for it?”

“Maybe if I were to go with someone I really liked… Then yes, I would. I don’t see the point in leaving if I’ll just be on my own.”

“It’s not about who you’re with, Cas. It’s about freedom.” Dean explained. Cas liked seeing him like this, excited and argumentative. There was a small crease between his brows as he looked at Cas in utter confusion. Cas grinned back unable to help himself.

“But I am free, Dean. I’ve got nothing trapping me. Do you?” Dean’s jaw dropped open momentarily, but he snapped it shut as soon as he realized what had happened.

“No, I mean, I uh, I’m not… trapped. I just like the freedom I find on the road. It’s...” Dean tried to think of another word besides “freeing”.

“It’s nice,” he told him. “You got a sweet ride beneath you, a blue sky above you, a long road before you. It’s…” He trailed off and Sam took the opportunity to tell him he sounded like a Led Zeppelin song. Dean blushed, and Cas found he was finding even more things to like about the boy before him.

“No,” he promised. “No, it’s nice. I’d like to do that someday.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Carmen wasn’t pleased that Dean told Sam it was okay for him to move in with them without asking her first. While she wouldn’t have had any problems with it, understanding the love Dean had for his little brother, he always did things without confronting her first and it finally crawled under her skin and found her sore spot. She knew that he didn’t mean it, but she also knew her father had done the same thing when he’d moved her and her mother from town to town as a child, running one scam after the other.

She’d grown up hopping from one school to the next, never staying long enough to make permanent friends. As soon as she graduated high school, she took out student loans and left for the University of Texas, joined their nursing program, and worked her way through countless night shifts at the hospital. She hadn’t seen her father since and she hasn’t stayed in any relationship that seemed like it wasn’t going somewhere.

She knew that Dean and her father were two different men, but his carelessness concerning her feelings worried her. She wished he would ask just once if it’s okay to go out with Benny and Victor instead of having her come home from a double shift to find the apartment empty. Maybe just once, she’d like to feel needed and important to him. That being said, it didn’t seem like too extreme a punishment to kick Dean out of the apartment for the night. Except Dean went so willingly.

He packed his bag and returned to his childhood home without even trying to apologize. It left Carmen sitting up all night on her night off, wondering where their relationship was going and if she wanted to be with a man that didn’t seem to really care what happened to her. By morning, Carmen Porter decided that she couldn’t stay in this relationship if things weren’t going to change and she packed up her things and moved in with her sister a couple towns over.

When Dean returned that evening after his shift at Bobby’s, her things were gone, including most of the furniture and all the pictures of them that had lined the fridge and walls. The only trace that she’d been there at all was a note on the coffee table.

After all, Carmen Porter was an expert at leaving.

 

Mary decided to keep the house for a little longer, once she heard Sam’s news. She wanted to repaint Sam’s old room and turn it into the nursery and give the couple the master bedroom, claiming she didn’t need that much space anyway.

Sam’s interview with the D. Baum Law Associates was a success and a few days later he was working for Dorothy Baum her unnamed associate, Charlie Bradbury. He and Jess packed up all of their things as fast as they could and hired a mover to drive the truck out to Kansas. Sam and Jess flew out immediately after, and it seemed like the quickest and smoothest move that Dean had ever witnessed.

He hadn’t told them about Carmen leaving. They were so excited about the move and the baby and no longer having to work for the DeVille Law Firm in California that he didn’t want to end their celebrations. He didn’t want the pitying looks that would be directed his way, and he certainly didn’t want to admit that while his kid brother was married and having a baby, Dean was thirty years old and had just gotten dumped by his girlfriend.

Seeing Sam and Jess happily settling back into his childhood home filled his chest with a sense of joy that he hadn’t known he could have, and for a while he forgot that Carmen had left for good and wasn’t just working a lot. When Dean did finally remember, he realized that if he could forget her so easily, then maybe they weren’t so great for each other anyway. In the end, he felt no animosity towards her and hoped that she has a good life and finds someone great.

She deserved that.

 

Cas’ walls are bare. They have been for the six years that he’s lived in his apartment. It never really bothered him that they were so empty, but this morning he woke up to a soft sun with Sir Flufferkins and felt like painting the walls green.

Once he had his ritual cup of coffee in him, Cas sat on the couch next to another decorated flower pot that Hannah had given him. This one had a lady bug painted on the side and a fern growing inside. Sir Flufferkins liked to play with the fern, and now it was wilted from being clawed at.

Cas scratched Sir Flufferkins behind the ears as the cat pawed at a leaf. He stared at the walls, watching the sun spread across them and made his decision.

“Sir Flufferkins,” he told the cat which looked up briefly before it started to lick itself. “I think we need a change.”

And so, two hours later he found himself wandering down the aisle at a Home Depot, picking through paint samples, trying to avoid the nervous employee who kept asking him if he needed any help. The boy, Kevin, his nametag read, looked like he was still in high school. His orange smock was too large on him, and he kept stepping nervously from side to side and eyeing Cas over the paint catalogue that he was hiding behind.

Cas was trying to choose between “Herbal Garden” and “Pear” when the voice behind him said, “I’m personally a fan of ‘Thyme Green’ myself.” When he turned around, Dean was smiling cockily at him, holding out a paint card that Cas had missed earlier. He arched an eyebrow and took the card, holding it up to the others.

“Of course,” Dean continued. “If you’ve got brown furniture, it might make the room a bit dark.”

“I don’t,” Cas replied quickly, squeezing the samples tightly in his hands. “It’s all white.” White furniture on white walls. Anna had refused to help him move in at first, it was all so plain. Gabriel had cringed at the lack of color and nudity of the apartment, right before buying a phallic shaped candlestick and calling it a homecoming gift. Cas didn’t tell him that he’d kept the candlestick holder tucked away in the storage closet, but he’d been genuinely touched that Gabe had gotten him anything at all.

“What color walls do you have? You might have to paint over them if they’re too dark,” Dean explained, flipping through a few more samples under the yellows.

“They’re white,” Cas told him. Dean shot him a confused look before a bemused smile rolled over his lips.

“White on white? Hmm, I can see why you might want some color.” He held out a card with different shades of gold on it. “What do you think? ‘Citrus Zest’ or ‘Bicycle Yellow?” Cas took the cards but didn’t look at them.

“I’m looking for green, Dean, not yellow.”

“Yeah, I know. But this is for the nursery.” Cas felt his heart stop for a second before rapidly picking up.

“Nursery?” He looked down at the colors now if only to avoid Dean’s gaze.

“Yeah. I’m repainting Sam’s old room. We’re gonna turn it into a nursery for when the baby comes. I thought yellow would look nice, but I wanted everyone else’s opinion first.” Cas made a noise under his breath and pointed to the “Bicycle Yellow” shade.

“You’d think that Sam would want to be here, picking these out, but he recently started working at Baum Law Associates and has been pretty busy there.”

“Sam’s back in town?” Cas saw the Baum Law Associates billboards on the way to the KU campus every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. A dark haired brunette stood tall in front of a courthouse and a 1-800 number was printed below. Cas thought she appeared unwelcoming, but he had heard good things about the firm and hoped Sam was happy there.

“Yeah. He and Jess have wanted to return for a while now, but it wasn’t until the baby that they decided to make the move.”

“They must be very proud of you then,” Cas told him, trying to slow his heartrate. He was happy for Dean. He was. Truly. He would make a great father. Cas had always told him that.

Dean looked at him in confusion but shrugged. “I guess. I’m just doing what needs to be done. No one else is going to paint it, you know?” He lifted his lips in a half smile and looked beyond Cas. “Oh! Hey, Kevin! I think I decided on a color.” Cas turned around and saw the thin boy still hiding behind the large notebook. Kevin looked over at them and slowly left his stool to approach them. He looked down at the color Cas was holding and nodded.

“‘Bicycle Yellow’ is a popular choice for nurseries. Jess will love it.” He took the color to the mixing counter. Cas and Dean followed behind him and watched him blend the mixtures. “How far in is she now?” He looked up at Dean, and Cas’ brow twitched in confusion.

“Eight weeks. We’re looking at another May baby. You know Jess was just _so_ excited about that. She says we’re being outnumbered and us winter kids gotta stick together,” Dean teased. Kevin finished mixing and let a streak of it dry on the card then fanned it to dry it quicker.

“You know that’s right,” Kevin told him, handing back the sample. It was spot on. Cas was impressed and looked down at the two cards in his hands.

“Jess is pregnant?” That’s what it sounded like they were saying, but Cas didn’t understand why she would be carrying Dean’s child. The last time he’d seen Mary, she’d said Sam and Jess were happily married. Unless Sam couldn’t produce children, but they wanted a child whose genetics were in the family line, which would mean Dean and Jess had copulated. Cas stopped that train of thought almost immediately after starting it.

“Uh, yeah, Cas,” Dean said, eyeing him strangely. “That’s why we’re making a nursery.”

“I thought…”

“Since Sam’s busy, I’m stepping in and helping out.” _Oh_. Cas exhaled and felt relief rolling off of his lungs. “Why? What did you think…?” Dean seemed to catch up and muttered a low _Oh…_ under his breath. He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “No, that’s not.” He sighed, “None for me.” Then after another moment of awkward silence in which Kevin watched the scene before him, wishing he were at home studying for the SATs. “What about you? Any... kids or something?”

Cas almost laughed at the idea. “No, no. I have a cat. Even that can be too much at some times,” he replied, thinking of the time Sir Flufferkins strategized an attack on Cas’ blinds as soon as he had left for work.

“Of course. Let me guess. A scrap of a thing from the streets?” Dean’s eyes were teasing, but Cas felt defensive of his decision.

“He’s not a scrap anymore.”

“Uh, Dean?” The two turned towards the boy who had uncomfortably watched the exchange unable to leave for the weed killer aisle or any other one that they wouldn’t be in. “Here’s your paint.” Dean blushed, having forgotten where he was, and took the cans from Kevin. He stood before Cas a moment and started to walk to the registers, continuing his conversation.

“I knew you would, Cas. You’re a good person like that,” he told the man. Cas made a sound of protest in his throat.

“Just because I took in a stray cat, it doesn’t make me a good person, Dean.” They reached the register and Dean placed the cans on the conveyer, thinking back to the day his husband had left him. Neither person spoke until they reached the doors of the Impala. Dean unlocked the car and set the cans on the floorboard of the passenger side.

Dean fingered his keys, wrists resting on the hood of the car as he looked over at Cas who stood sheepishly on the other side of the Impala. A breeze rolled through the parking lot, and Dean smiled, looking down at his feet. Then he patted the hood of the car and pulled back, tossing a nod to Cas before ducking under. Cas knelt down and knocked on the window, and a moment later, Dean rolled it down.

“I haven’t had lunch yet,” Cas told him, hands on the door frame. “My treat?”

Dean looked across the parking lot and, seeming to have made a decision, he pushed open the door. Cas caught it in his hand and climbed in, pulling the door hard behind him. His shoulders relaxed under the familiar roar of the engine. He breathed in the smell of leather and summer and smiled over at Dean who was looking back just as content as Cas.

“Where to?”

“I haven’t been to the Roadhouse in a while,” Cas offered. Dean’s smile fell. He looked back at the road, and Cas surged forward with an apology. “I’m sorry. I thought it might be less awkward that going to Garth’s.” Dean bit his lip, considering returning to the diner where they’d had their first date, and sighed.

“Yeah, we sure marked up this town pretty good, didn’t we?” He tapped his fingers on the wheel and took at left at the light.

“Yeah.” They reached the small shack of a diner, and Dean turned on his blinker and pulled off. When he caught Cas staring at him, he just muttered, “What? I like the pie, okay?” and parked close to the door.

Garth looked up when they entered and then did a double take. Becky Rosen started to approach them, but he cut her off, diving in front of them before she could.

“Howdy, fellas,” he greeted as they sat in their old booth and looked through the menus that were tucked between the window and the ketchup.

“Garth,” the replied in unison, Cas out of politeness and Dean in irritation.

“The usual?” The usual hadn’t been the usual in six years, but neither corrected him, and Garth had already written down their order. Dean put the menu back, nodding at him, and Cas did the same, trying to remember what he used to get back then. They sat awkwardly in silence for a few minutes, playing with the straw wrappers before them.

When the burger and fries came out with a side of ranch dressing instead of ketchup, Cas hummed in accordance. Garth placed a vanilla milkshake in the middle of the table, and they froze, staring at the drink they used to share.

“Uh, you can—”

“No, you should—”

“You’re paying.”

“I don’t want it. I swear.”

“Just take the fucking drink, Cas.” Dean was weary, as he pushed the drink over. Garth watched in fascination at the end of their table. Becky Rosen was peeking over the cash register at the table, and even Spruce was looking over the kitchen divider at the two men.

Cas pulled the glass towards him and stuck a straw in it. Dean’s blush crawled up his neck and wrapped around his ears. He kept his gaze on a crack in the table and fingered a straw wrapper. Cas took a sip and picked at his fries.

“Garth?” Garth jerked out of his daze and nodded.

“Right, right. I’ll leave you idgits to your… meal.”

“Garth, you’re not using it right…” But he was already gone, returning to Becky’s side. He pushed her out of the way to take the position behind the cash register. She sat behind the pie platter and kept her gaze on them, eyes wide and hands intertwined, a maniac grin on her lips.

Dean picked up his burger and breathed in the greasy smell. “Sorry about that.” Cas didn’t know if he was apologizing for the extra company or for snapping at him. He let it go and focused on his food.

“I guess next time we’ll just have to find a nice McDonald’s,” he joked. Dean looked pained for a moment and swallowed the bite he’d taken of his burger.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. Cas stretched his feet forward and immediately pulled it back as it brushed against Dean’s. They picked at their food until it was gone. Then Cas paid, and they headed back to Baby. Dean opened the door for Cas and subconsciously placed a hand on Cas’ back as they left the diner. Behind them, Becky Rosen fell out of her chair and sprawled out on the floor in gay porn heaven.

The drive back to Home Depot was silent but comfortable as Dean turned up the radio and Cas was lost in his thoughts. He opened the glove box and handed Cas the box of tapes, asking him to choose one. Cas picked the first one he could pull out and inserted it in the slot. A moment later, “Thank You” started to play through the speakers.

The wind felt nice blowing through Cas’ hair, and the sun felt warm on his skin. He leaned on the window frame and watched the houses and shops pass them by. Dean’s hand laid between them on the seat, and his left foot was propped up on the leather, knee leaning against the door.

“So,” Dean started without realizing where he was going with this. “Uh, what’s your book about?” Cas turned away from the window, noticed Dean’s hand spread across the seat, and crossed his legs on the seat.

“I researched homosexual figures, symbols, and analyses of medieval art and basically observed the works influence on society and religious figures.” Cas may have been trying to talk up his book, but after finishing, he remembered that he was in a car— not just any car, in _Baby—_ with Dean and not in a room of his coworkers who would have argued the homosexual subtext as nonexistent, a fact Cas learned _after_ publishing the book.

But Dean just smiled and shook his head. “Knew you would do something great, Cas.” Cas snorted and fiddled with his thumbs.

“Tell that to my coworkers. They seem to see it as a ‘far stretch’ and think that I’m an ‘unreliable narrator.’” Cas’ finger quotes were exaggerated, but his voice gave away his annoyance at the hidden insult.

“Cas,” Dean said in all seriousness, looking over at him with pouted lips. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you did choose a department of conservative, old, white dudes.”

“That’s such a stereotype, Dean. Joshua’s not white.” He thought for a moment and said, “Although, I do suppose there aren’t any women in the department.”

“Boom!” Dean’s teeth gleamed in the sun. Cas rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically as the Impala rolled into the parking lot next to Cas’ Lincoln.

“Well…”

“Yeah.” They sat in silence until Cas pushed open the door. He pushed it shut and leaned in through the window.

“This was nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go buy some paint.”

“Yeah, right. You go… do that.” Dean waved and put the car in reverse as Cas backed up. The Impala pulled away with a roar. The left blinker flicked, and a moment later, the car disappeared into traffic.

Cas decided on “Thyme Green”.

 

**Before-Twenty-One**

Years later, Cas would claim that first night of being in Dean’s childhood home to have been the first date. Dean would deny it, insisting they were friends-with-benefits long before they ever got together. Both of those accounts would be true. Either way, Dean saw something in Cas that night that he wanted to see again.

There were a few more successful hookups that would usually end with Cas splayed over Dean’s couch studying for a test or reading some theological text or another while Dean flipped through a car magazine or watched horrible Reality TV (Real Housewives _is not trashy, Cas. It’s an art form_ ). And so it began.

Sometimes Dean would call when he’d worked a long shift and needed to let off some steam. Or Cas would hear some homophobic asshole on campus yelling slurs and would need a good fucking to clear his head. Dean would remember that Cas liked the _X-Files_ and invite him over when there was a rerun marathon online. Cas learned the inside outs of online shipping and wanted Dean to come help him try out a new toy while Balthazar was out of town.

Cas had picked Sam up from soccer practice the weekend Mary and Ellen went to a spa and Dean’s car had broken down. Dean would in turn listen to Cas’ breakdowns over if his major was right for him. He’d buy him takeout and spend the night watching _The Princess Bride_ which Cas pretended to like so that Dean could watch it without any damage to his masculinity. Sometimes they just sat together, breathing each other’s air, lips occasionally pressing together, no rush, no expectations of sex, just each other’s bodies, firm and warm against the other.

Years later, Dean would claim that the first weekend of February was their first date, the moment they got their heads out of their asses far enough to realize when a good thing was in front of them. The heater had broken in the shop, and Dean’s hands were chapped from messing with the heater in a Jeep Cherokee. Dean could see his breaths as he exhaled and his teeth were chattering.

Bobby already sent everyone home, hoping to close up shop early, but he’d promised the owner of the Jeep that their heaters would be fixed by six today. Dean, being the man on the job, was now obligated to wait around, which was just perfect, because he had dinner plans with Cas at six-thirty and was now fifteen minutes late unless he decided to skip the shower and just go out as is. He had already changed back into his jeans and tried to rinse the grease from his arms, face, and fingernails, but he was pretty sure some oil had gotten behind his ear today when he was checking out a leak.

As he was rubbing behind his ear with a clean rag, he could hear the slow clacking of heels across the concrete ground of the shop.

“Hello?” an English voice called out.

“Be right with you,” he shouted back, tossing the rag into the clean enough pile and pulling the bathroom door shut behind him. A tall thin brunette stood leaning against the counter. She was dressed for a business meeting, if said meeting involved the tightest skirt Dean had ever seen. He eyed her appreciatively, and she leaned forward as he stepped up to the register.

“Miss Talbot, I presume?” The woman nodded, baring her teeth to Dean in a smile that looked more poisonous than attracting. It kind of turned him on as he imagined said teeth running over his nipple, but then he imagine the short dark hair and Cas looking up at him with those baby blues, and Dean had to readjust himself. The woman smirked.

“That is what they call me, handsome.”

“Well, I fixed the heater in your Jeep, so you shouldn’t have any problem with it. If you do,” Dean paused as he slid the card across the counter until it touched her fingertips, “just call me.” She tucked the card into her purse before stepping back, frown firm on her face.

“Of course. I expect nothing but the best from Bobby’s crew.” Her voice was hard and distant. Dean wasn’t sure if they were flirting or not. He was certainly turning on the Winchester charm that seemed to draw so many women and the occasional guy back to the shop. He’d found her pretty charming too, but now she was giving him the cold shoulder.

“Uh, right,” he told her, still trying to catch up. “I guess we’ll see you around then. Have a nice night.” She left, and he began to turn off the lights, feeling even colder as the light slowly disappeared from the store. Dean locked up an pulled his jacket tighter around him as the breeze picked up. He hated February. It was always too cold, and now he was late for dinner with Cas.

He had sent the other man a text, explaining why he might be late, but he still just wanted to be in Cas’ kitchen cooking up his Mom’s stir fry recipe rather than curled up inside the Impala, freezing his fingers off while trying to start the engine. It stuttered but started and he pulled into traffic, driving slower than usual to avoid the icy roads but still the fastest car on the road. He hurried up the four flights of stairs to Cas’ apartment and knocked on the door.

There was silence for a moment, but then Dean heard the locks twisting on the other side of the door. It opened and Dean’s heart jumped at the sight of a tired Cas, pillow print fresh on his face and hair pointing in five different directions. He pushed his way into the small apartment, slamming the door behind him, and curled around the man, sticking his hands under his sweater as Cas tried to squirm away.

“Dean!” Cas jumped back, pulling his sweater down around him as he opened the closet and searched around in a box. He handed over a pair of gloves which Dean slid on frozen fingers and then wrapped a scarf around the blond’s neck. His teeth were still chattering, so Cas pulled him forward into a kiss. Dean felt himself melting into it and tucked his head into Cas’ neck, pressing his icy nose to the soft skin there.

“You need a thicker jacket, Dean,” the shorter man chastised.

“Looks to me like I’ve got one right here, sweetheart,” he shot back. Cas’ hand ran soothingly up his back and Dean slowly began to warm up enough to remove clothing. Cas hissed when Dean removed the gloves to expose chapped knuckles, and he held them up to his lips.

“Hey, I’ve got some chapped lips too, if you’d like to warm those up any,” Dean offered. Cas shot him a look, and— _Jesus—_ Dean’s stomach did flips.

“You should take better care of yourself, Dean,” he told him. “I kind of like having you around if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s eyes darkened. “I kinda like being around.” Cas looked away, small smile gracing his lips, and Dean wanted to kiss him again.

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you like about being here?” Dean’s brows clenched together. That didn’t sound like the teasing tone Cas had been using seconds earlier. He stepped forward, but the other man dodged him to start picking up his textbooks from the coffee table and arranging the pile of notes stacked beside them.

Dean faltered by the door for a moment before shrugging off his coat and tucking his hands into his pockets. “Here?” He hummed under his breath. “Well, it just so happens that there’s this guy here.” Cas slowed his movements. He was listening, although he was trying damned hard to look nonchalant. Dean stepped closer, picking up the TV Guide and handing it over.

“Thanks,” Cas said, taking the paper. “So this guy, what’s so great about him?”

“Well, his ass for one.” Cas glared at him, so he continued. “But also his eyes.”

“Sounds great,” Cas lied, swallowing heavily. “I’m glad he’s attractive.”

“It’s not the looks. You see, he gets this little furrow between his eyebrows when he’s confused —” Said furrow now sat between said brows. “—and when I wake up in the morning, I wish I was here, so the first thing I see every day would be that little furrow. And he does this… this _thing_ where he tilts his head when he’s not sure if I’m being serious. I love that. He does it so much. I think it’s because he sometimes misunderstands social cues.”

“There’s nothing funny about that, Dean,” Cas explained, voice cracking. He swallowed heavily and Dean stepped closer, pressing his hands to the slightly shorter man’s hips.

“I know, Cas, but this way, I can come over here and cook dinner so he doesn’t poison himself. I can watch movies even though I’m really just watching his reaction to them. I can just _be_ with him without him knowing that these aren’t things friends-with-benefits want.”

“They aren’t?” Cas swallowed again, looking at Dean with confusion and slight distrust in his eyes. Dean stepped closer so their chest brushed. He could feel the other’s breath on his lips, could feel his chest expand against his.

“No,” he told him, shaking his head. “They’re things lovers do, and I’ve kinda been too chicken to ask for more, because we have such a good thing going, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Maybe you should have just asked, Dean.”

“Yeah, I’m not that bright though.”

“Don’t demean yourself. You _are_ smart.”

“Cas…” Then Cas’ hands were in his hair pulling Dean down into a long kiss. He slid his hands down and gripped his thighs, pulling him up. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist as he walked them to the bedroom. Then Dean froze.

“Cas, what’s that burning smell?”

His eyes widened comically as he lunged out of Dean’s arms and ran into the kitchen. Dean approached the scene with some hesitation and watched as Cas dumped the burnt bacon into the trash. Once the fan was on and several windows had been pried open, Cas leaned back against the counter, looking dejectedly at the ground.

“Cas, it’s fine, I swear,” Dean protested after the man, on the verge of tears, had called himself a failure. “There’s still some bacon left. We’ll just add a little to the stir fry and I can run to the store to buy more tomorrow. It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

“Yes, it is, Dean.” Cas sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. “You always have to take care of me. I can’t even cook fucking bacon without—” His voice cut off with a choke, and he wiped at his eyes, pretending that if he rubbed hard enough, Dean wouldn’t see the tears.

“It’s just bacon.”

“This time!” Dean flinched under Cas’ shouting. “It’s just the bacon this time. I will always burn something, Dean.”

“Then I’ll always run to the store. Or better yet, you let me do the cooking like we agreed upon.”

“That’s not fair to you,” Cas protested.

“It’s fair to my digestion,” his new announced boyfriend promised, and Cas made a mounded sound.

“I just wanted to help you,” he finally sighed. His boyfriend, a word Cas almost smiled thinking about, soothingly trailed his fingers up and down Cas’ back as he pulled him into a hug.

“I know you did. I like that about you.” Dean pressed a kiss into the dark hair. “But _please_ stay out of the kitchen. For my sake if not for yours.” Cas smiled at the desperation in his voice and let himself relax in Dean’s arms.

“I guess I can do that then.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

The paint sat in his living room for two weeks, because when he returned from the Home Depot Hannah had needed help with an entire other kind of painting.

“I just need you to paint the pots a solid color,” she begged. “One of my buyers made a Tumblr post about the Tolkien one, and all the sudden I’m getting a kinds of request online.” She had a splotch of orange paint on her nose and desperation in her eyes so he sat at the table.

“Beer?” he heard from the kitchen doorway. Balthazar set a bottle down before him and sat in front of the third pot, half-painted already, which Castiel hadn’t even had time to notice.

“How’d she rope you into this?” he asked the tall blond, honestly wanting to know.

“Sex.” And honestly, Castiel should have known. And so he sat at the table until Balthazar had to make a beer run to the corner store down the street and the moon was high in the sky. It had been awhile since he’d just hanged out with the two, especially at the same time. He hadn’t realized how much he missed them until they were back together again.

And so he painted the different sized pots reds and whites and blues while Balthazar did the yellows, greens, and purples. Hannah detailed them and set them in a plastic sheet to dry as they finished. Sir Flufferkins meowed from the bedroom where Hannah had tossed him after he rubbed cat hair all over a drying pot. They worked long into the night and Castiel’s white walls were forgotten for the time being.

Two weeks later though, Castiel had tripped over the paint cans a total of seventeen times before finally pushing them into the furthest corner of the room where no one went anyway, and Sir Flufferkins had taken to clawing at the label glued to the cans. He’d promptly forgotten about them until Hester suggested a Saturday at the park while the weather was still nice.

The October breeze felt cool on Castiel’s skin, and he was glad he’d worn a sweater. Hester had brought a picnic basket and a thick blanket to spread on the ground. They’d both brought books to be read, his on the life of Donatello, hers a children’s book discussing fire safety. The sun had felt too warm against his cheeks for Castiel to stay focused for too long. As the morning turned into afternoon, he found his head sinking lower and lower towards the blanket. Hester had given up around noon, pulling a t-shirt from her bag to lay over her eyes and then drifted into sleep.

So it wasn’t that surprising when Castiel completely missed the Frisbee coming towards them until it hit him in the face.

“Hey, watch—” Cas jerked up as the neon green disk bounced off his head and landed on his book. Hester lifted the shirt, peeking over at him and, not noticing anything astray, promptly went back to sleep.

“Cas?” He looked towards the approaching footsteps, hand pressed to his temple. “Oh man, are you okay?”

“Dean?” Hester removed the shirt from her head, not having been asleep at all apparently, and she looked up, hand held over her brows to block the sun. Cas got to his knees and sat up, Frisbee in hand.

“What are you doing here?” Dean’s jog slowed down as he approached the blanket. He gave a smile and wave to Hester before turning his eyes to Cas.

“Hey, sorry about that. I told Ben to be careful where he threw this thing but I’m afraid he hasn’t quite gotten his aim mastered yet.” He looked sheepish as he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

“You’re here with Ben?” Cas got to his feet and peeked around Dean. About a hundred feet back, Ben stood next to a backpack, looing dejectedly at the ground.

“Yeah, well, it’s my weekend of the month, so you know…” Dean turned to look behind him and check that the kid was still there before facing Cas again. “So…” He held out his hand, and it was only then that Cas realized he still had the Frisbee.

“Oh right! Here you go.” He handed it over and Dean started to back away.

“Well, it was great to see you again. I’ll see you around then.” Dean waved and turned around, walking back to Ben.

“That was Dean.” Cas looked at Hester who was watching the other man walk about. “You left _that_?”

“There was a lot going on,” he told her in defense.

“Yeah, but I would have worked it out for that hot piece of ass.”

“Hester!” She held up her hands and shrugged.

“Just saying, Castiel. You haven’t ever really explained what happened, so I just always assumed he was incredibly ugly or something.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business.” She stuck out her tongue but went back to her resting position. Cas certainly wouldn’t be able to focus now that he knew Dean at this very same park only a few hundred feet away, so he gave up on Donatello and set his gaze on the blond man throwing the disk to the child.

Ben was born shortly after Dean’s twenty-second birthday which would put him at roughly eight year old now. Cas could just barely make out the print on his t-shirt and noted that it was a Led Zeppelin album cover. Of course, Dean would teach him about classic rock. He could feel himself smiling as Ben tossed the Frisbee, throwing it straight up in the air instead of towards Dean. Ben giggled when Dean lunged for the disk before it hit the ground, and Dean tackled the boy instead, tickling his sides as Ben shrieked.

“You know, Cas,” Hester said, and it was only then that he realized she’d been watching the scene as well. “I think I could go for a burger. What do you say?”

He looked at her, suspicion evident in his eyes. She wasn’t a big meat eater and they’d just had cheese and crackers an hour ago. His stomach grumbled at the thought though, so he consented and began picking up his things. When he looked up however, Hester was no longer sitting across from him. In fact, she wasn’t anywhere near the blanket.

“Hest—” _No_. Cas watched helplessly as she approached Dean, waving at Ben who eyed her like he was used to attractive women talking to his father figure. She stopped a few feet away from him, and Dean laughed at something she said and nodded. Cas felt the book he was holding slip from his hands. He lunged to pick it up before the wind bent the pages, and when he straightened himself out again, Dean and Hester was staring. He blushed and gave a small wave which Dean did not return.

Cas continued to gather his things and folded the blanket, hurrying back to the car where he could hide from embarrassing himself in front of his ex-husband anymore. He sat stiffly in the front seat until Hester returned to her car, thankfully alone. She climbed in and managed to buckle her seatbelt before Cas spun on her.

“What the hell was that?” He threw his hands out for emphasis but hit a knuckle on the windshield. Hard. He held his finger in his hand and glared at her as she backed out of the parking spot.

“Don’t look at me like that, Castiel. I’m merely butting my head where it doesn’t belong,” she said it so nonchalantly that Cas could feel the stress ulcer developing in his stomach. Hester looked over at him and, having decided to take pity on the poor man, she sighed and explained.

“I invited them to lunch. I said they didn’t have to come if they didn’t want to but that we’d be at Full Moon Diner down the block if they wanted to join us.” Cas groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“How could you do that? _Why_ would you do that? Haven’t I been good to you?” Hester rolled her eyes at the display, not that Cas could see since he was currently avoiding his existence.

“Well, what did he say?” he finally asked as she turned the corner and pulled the car into the diner’s parking lot.

“What? Do you want a direct quote? Should I tell you if he mentioned you?” she teased, parking the car close to the entrance.

“Hester…” Cas warned.

She sighed again and cut off the engine. “He said, and I quote, ‘Yeah, sounds great’. Is that good enough to satisfy your thirst, Castiel?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, uppity now that he’d gotten his answer. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to open the door but froze again.

“Wait. What does ‘sounds great’ mean? Does her really think it sounds great or was he just saying that?” Or did Dean mean that grabbing a bite to eat sounded great but meeting with Cas and Hester was irrelevant. Or was he saying that Cas and Hester eating a burger on such a nice day sounded great?

“What are you doing?”

“How did he say it? Did he sound interested?”

“Castiel, what are you doing?” The knock on the window behind him, startled the couple still inside the car. Dean stood outside, a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and Hester pointed to the building and held a finger, letting them know that they’d be inside in just a moment. Dean nodded and Ben led the tall man inside and towards a booth at the window.

Cas turned back to Hester. “He showed up.” His voice was more than surprised. It was hopeful, and Hester yanked him back to face her when he reached for the door handle.

“Cas, you left Dean. You can’t just go and pretend that none of that ever happened, okay? You can’t just interfere with his life again as if you didn’t break his heart.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed as he frowned at her. “Why did you invite him here if you didn’t want us to see each other?”

“I wanted to mess with you, Cas.  I didn’t think he’d actually come along.”

He leaned forward and looked her directly in the eyes as he said, “But he did come, so maybe that says something about Dean Winchester too. Huh? Did you ever think of that? Maybe he wants to see me too, Hester.”

“Or he wants answers.” Cas pulled away and pushed open the door. They didn’t talk as they entered the small dining area, and Cas slid into the booth across from Dean who handed Hester a menu. Ben looked up at his briefly before going back to his coloring page that Garth had laid out.

Becky stopped by to take their orders and then returned a few minutes later with sodas for the adults and an orange juice for Ben, because “Your mom will kill me, kid, if I take you home on a sugar high.”

“So Ben,” Hester started, trying to push through the awkward silence and start a conversation. “What grade are you in?” He picked up the red crayon and drew a block number three before pushing the paper towards Hester.

“Third grade. Wow! You’re almost out of elementary school. Do you like your teacher?” The boy nodded and pulled the page back to draw a stick figure with short black hair and _Star Wars_ shirt on.

“That’s his teacher’s assistant. He helps the entire grade level but took a special liking to Ben when he complimented him on his shirt one day. Isn’t that right, Ben?”

“Yup.”

“Who’s your favorite character, Ben?” Cas asked, leaning forward, arms crossed and elbows pressing into the hard wood of the table.

“Chewie.” The boy continued drawing, this time a brown dog shaped creature that slightly resembled the Wookiee when Cas squinted hard enough. Ben passed the drawing to Cas who thoroughly inspected it and passed it back.

“Mine to. That’s look just like him.” Ben finally looked at him and, seeing that he was serious, beamed. “But you forgot to give him a holster and a bowcaster so he can fight the stormtroopers.” Ben considered this and pushed the paper over to Cas, handing him the black crayon.

“You draw it.” Cas may have majored in Visual Arts but he hadn’t used a crayon since middle school, so he hesitantly pressed the waxy utensil to the page and drew a line. Ben watched with fascination as he slowly added a crossbow shaped weapon and the large belt that hangs across the creature’s torso. When he was done, he passed it to Ben who oohed and ahhed at it.

“Cas is an artist,” Dean explained to his kind-of-son. He wasn’t really, Cas wanted to protest. Artists had to actually create work which Cas hadn’t done in years, but instead, he savored the attention that the young boy showed him, knowing that at least one person thought he was cool.

“Do you draw Wookies lots of times?” Ben asked, staring up at Cas with big hazel eyes.

“Every morning,” Cas lied. Kind of… Well, he technically didn’t draw them _every_ morning, but when he was sipping his coffee at the kitchen table before leaving for class he liked to draw on a napkin with a blue or black pen and occasionally a Wookie would be created in the mix. “It’s one of the perks of being an artist,” he told the small boy.

“I want to be one when I grow up, and then I can draw lots and lots of Wookies.” Ben let out a toothy smile, one that reminded him of when he’d babysat the boy years ago.

“So Dean,” Hester said from next to Cas. “Are you still working at that auto shop?”

“Yeah, why are you still working at that strip joint?” Cas kicked the man under the table, and Hester frowned at him.

“That’s what you told him about me. That I worked in a strip joint?”

“Hester, I barely knew you back then. It was easier to say the stripper than that girl who totally handed my ass to me during a debate in my Greek and Roman Philosophies class.”

“Cas!” Hester nodded her head towards the young ears who had thankfully gone back to drawing, but Dean just shrugged it off with, “Oh, he’s used to it by now. Get Lisa a little tipsy on game night and she’ll swear like a sailor.” Then he added, “You know, I never got to hear what that debate was about…” and Hester was off talking about Cas misreading the text and basically belittling everyone in the room who had actually _understood_ it, which was about as close to the truth as the story could get.

Cas buried his head in his palms again as Dean laughed at Hester’s impersonation of the man, and he regretted whatever he’d done in his past life to allow himself to become friends with Hester in the first place.

“Cas actually said that?” Dean asked, spitting his soda back into the glass.

“Yeah, he was a pretentious douchewad if you ask me,” Hester told him.

“Still am, according to you last night,” Cas shot back, then he turned to Dean. “She was upset that I didn’t want to go third wheel for her last night.”

“You chose to grade papers, Castiel. Papers over me!”

“I chose papers over having to sit next to Harry Spangler while you made out with Ed the entire time.”

“He wasn’t even there this time.”

“The man brought another man on a date with you, Hester!” Hester opened her mouth, ready to protest, so Cas turned to Dean. “Tell her, Dean.”

The other man held up his hands. “I don’t know enough about this… but it does sound like there is something going on there.”

“Hester, they investigate ghosts for a living,” Cas told her seriously. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Do not mention the business, Cas.” He looked over to Dean who had leaned forward.

“I’m sorry. They do what?” Cas smiled, adding a tally to an imaginary scoreboard in his mind.

Becky brought their food out then, and Ben put away his crayons long enough to dig into his grilled cheese. Dean and Cas’ burgers were handed down and Hester’s salad was placed in front of her. Everyone dug in hungrily and the talking died down. Cas’ burger was as good as the last time and he devoured it rapidly. He’d have to leave a good tip, because he was suddenly remembering the reason he and Dean had frequented this place so much. Spruce could make a damn good burger.

They didn’t stay for milkshakes this time, because Dean had to get Lisa home in time for dinner, so the group divided back into their original duos. Cas was quiet on the ride back to his apartment, and he ate a small bowl of cereal for dinner and finished grading his papers then called it a night and crawled under the thick duvet on his bed. The window was open and he could feel a light breeze coming in across his shoulders.

His phone got a text and he sat up in surprise at seeing the familiar old number there.

**Dean: Hey, I put my number in here when you went to the bathroom. I hope that’s alright.**

He responded quickly and a few moments later he got another.

**Dean: I had fun today. It was good seeing you.**

_Cas:  Me too._

**Dean: Goodnight, Cas.**

He put down his phone and fell back onto the mattress, arms spread out. The air brushed against his body and he trailed a hand down his stomach, lower and lower until— Cas moaned as his fingers wrapped around himself, and he thought of Dean’s cheeks, slightly flushed in the sun today. Then he focused on Dean’s moan after he’d bitten into the burger. Cas spread his legs, one hand still firm on himself while the other drifted further down, pressing into the delicate skin below.

He smeared the pre-cum that leaked out and tightened his grip. His hand was too dry but the lube was so far away and he was so close. He imagined the warmth surrounding him was Dean, imagined the man riding him, dick bobbing up and down wildly. He pictured Dean’s lips wrapped around the straw of his soda today and then imagined them wrapped around his cock. Cas arched off the bed, fucking into his fist, hard and fast as cum spurted out of him, staining the duvet yet again. He fell boneless back into the mattress and shivered as his sweat dried.

His energy soaked into the mattress and slipped out the window, so Cas shut his eyes, leaving the wet duvet over his thighs and fell deep into a dreamless sleep.

 

**Before- Twenty-Two**

The move into Sam’s new dorm room was quick and painless. Sam’s roommate wouldn’t arrive for another two days, so the boys all piled back into Baby and headed for the beach. Cas had called the court house as soon as marriage was legalized and scheduled an appointment which was the next day, so Sam stayed in the hotel room with them and then drove them to the courthouse the next morning, because “It’s your wedding day, Dean. You can’t drive yourself!”

Dean insisted on driving after the ceremony though, and Sam just rolled his eyes and called him a control freak. Cas sat happily in the backseat and called Mary so that she could congratulate them for the big day. They parked the car and hurried into the courthouse and up to the front desk.

A thin woman with black hair sat behind a hefty computer. Her nametag read Sarah and Sam had to practically hold his brother back from jumping over the desk to hug her.

“Guess what?” he exclaimed. “I’m getting married.” She looked up at the three men and frowned.

“Not without a second witness, you aren’t.” The frown slipped from Dean’s face, and Sam stepped up.

“We have one. They’re just parking the car.” Sarah hummed under her breath, already looking away at something else and Sam shuffled the two over to a bench.

“Okay, so I may have totally forgotten about the second witness thing, but here’s what we’ll do. I’m gonna go outside and find a random person who will hopefully be so kind to stay and be our witness. Cas, you stay here and calm Dean down.” When Cas turned he saw the other man was shaking, sweat at the top of his brow.

“Dean, it’s going to be fine. Sam’s going to find someone, and then we’ll get married. Breathe with me, okay? In.” Dean took a deep breath in and exhaled with Cas.

“What if we miss our appointment though? The list is booked until January.”

“Dean, we got here a half hour early. Everything will be fine.” Cas turned away from the man, because he was getting anxious now and could feel the sweat dripping down the back of the Led Zeppelin t-shirt he’d grabbed from Dean’s bag that morning. They’d both agreed to ditch the suits since neither wanted to get married in something they’d have to return the next day. Cas had wanted to wear this shirt in particular, because it was the one of Dean’s that he wore the most, and from now on whenever he wore this shirt he was going to remember this moment.

Sam returned fifteen minutes later with a young blonde named Jess who happily greeted the almost newlyweds with a congratulations.

“I have two uncles who are gay, so I’m happy to be of assistance,” she told them as the four walked back to the front desk. Sarah led them down a hall and told them to wait outside the door because a ceremony was currently underway. Jess noticed the emblem on Sam’s wristband and the two started talking about some dorky book series about wizards while Cas and Dean grinned nervously, meeting each other’s gazes before quickly glancing away.

“Hey, come with me.” Dean pulled Cas down the hall, signaling to Sam that they’d only be one minute. They rounded the corner and he trapped the other man against the wall with a wet kiss.

“Dean,” Cas managed to gasp out in between kisses. “Now is not really the time for this. We’re about to get married. Shouldn’t we be saving this for later?”

“Oh, we’ll do this later alright. We’ll do this every night for the rest of our lives. You know why?” He pulled back enough for Cas to look him in the eyes without getting crisscrossed. “Because we’re getting married.” Cas smiled and Dean went in for one last, long kiss before they headed back to Sam. The wedding before was just getting out, and Dean waved to the happy couple, a redhead in a red Starfleet uniform and a brunette in a matching blue one.

Jess took a picture for them, and then the women were off, running down the hall, crying and cheering and hugging two other women who were with them. Dean and Cas faced the room, gripped each other’s hands, and stepped in.

 

The ceremony was quick and to the point. Everyone was trying to get out of there as soon as possible, and the boys treated Jess to lunch since she’d been kind enough to help them out. It turned out that she was going to be at Stanford this year too, so she and Sam had lots to talk about and Cas and Dean mostly grinned and made out, much to the younger couples’ disgust and then ate and made out some more. Once Jess found out that Sam was staying a hotel with them, Jess invited him to her house for the night and promised to give him a ride back to school if he helped her move into her room. And so, the foursome parted ways.

Dean pretended not to cry as Sam hugged him goodbye, and Sam tried not to let the tears fall in front of Jess, but both failed at their missions, and Cas had to drive Baby back to the hotel, his husband’s eyes were tearing up so bad.

“What if he needs me, Cas? What if he gets picked on by some douche and needs me to key his car?” Cas squeezed his hand and pulled into their motel.

“Sam’s taller than you now, Dean. He’s not going to need you for that.” Dean nodded in understanding.

“You’re right. He can take care of himself.” He sniffled then cried, “What if he doesn’t need me anymore?”

“Dean, he’ll always need you. Who’s going to be his best man? Who’s going to be there when his first child is born? Who’s going to be there when he graduates? You are.”

“I am,” Dean promised, nodding his head. “I’ve just never not had him.”

“I know, honey. But you’ve got to let him go now. Besides, he promised to  call at some point tonight and we could always stop by the school tomorrow and say goodbye.” Dean shook his head and sighed, turning to his husband.

“It’ll just be that much harder if we do.” Then he smiled sadly down at their joined hands. “This kinda ruins the honeymoon, doesn’t it.” Cas shook his head and kissed the man heavily.

“Come on. Let’s go shower, and I’ll show you a honeymoon.” The couple went inside, kissing as they removed their clothing. They stepped into the warm spray of the shower, and Dean winced under the low water pressure. Cas slowly massaged shampoo into Dean’s hair and ran a bar of soap over his skin, squeezing at the pouch of Dean’s tummy before leaving a long, bruising kiss above the belly button.

Cas didn’t bother trying to get him off, because Dean’s mind was still on his recently departed brother. He just turned off the water and toweled Dean dry before pulling out his swimsuit. He tossed it to Dean and pulled on his own.

“Come on. We’re going out. What kind of husband would I be if I let you mope on the night of our wedding?” Dean sat up and smiled at him.

“Husband.” He got on his knees on the bed and pulled Cas closer by his swim trunks. “You’re my husband.” He kissed the man hard until the both were panting and pulling at each other.

“Dean…” Dean’s hands pulled at the swim trunks, pushing them down. He yanked on Cas’ cock, making the man moan into the kiss. Cas’ knees hit the bed and he climbed on, pressing his body tighter against Dean’s. The blond trailed kisses down his chest, sucking at one nipple and then the other before making his way to Cas’ neck where the real prize was. Cas let out a long moan as Dean sucked at the spot right behind his ear.

Cas pushed the taller man onto his back and crawled over him, grinding his hips down hard. Dean panted beneath him, hand stretching for his duffle bag. His fingers wrapped around the bottle of lube and the top popped open as Cas squeezed Dean’s jaw laying an sloppy filthy kiss on his mouth. Dean groaned and yanked at Cas’ hair. Cas held down his wrist and pulled back enough to growl out a rough, “No.”

He licked a stripe across Dean’s neck and the man beneath him shoved his hips up in need of some serious friction. Cas pulled back again and held Dean’s cheeks between his hand and growled once more, “No.” He took Dean’s hands and held them over his head, using the other to grab the lube. He wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock and tugged until the man beneath him was a sniveling mess. He doused his fingers with the lube and pressed them lower against the ring of muscle.

“Dean.” His voice was low and commanding. Dean’s eyes found him, dark and desperate. Cas pressed a thumb to his lips and Dean lapped furiously at it. “Dean,” he called again. The man stilled, focusing this time on the body above him. “If I remove my hands, will you be a good boy and keep your arms up?” Dean nodded feverishly, tightening his arms to show Cas how good he could be. Cas felt a surge of pride sweep through his chest at the obedient man beneath him.

“Good.” He pulled his hand away and the arms stayed up. Cas gripped Dean’s cock in a tight fist and pumped hard, finger still circling the ring of muscle behind his balls. Cas lowered his head and wrapped his lips around Dean’s head. The man squirmed, dying to buck his hips, but knowing the reward Cas would give him if he didn’t.

Cas sucked harder, tongue slipping between the slit at the head. Then he opened his jaw and sucked down, taking him all in until he pressed to the base. Dean was tightening beneath him, thighs clenched around Cas’ head, hips trying so hard to stay still. Cas came back up and this time when he went down, he pressed into the tight ring of muscle. Dean’s hips bucked and he came, Cas staying still and swallowing every drop until the man above him was empty and sedated.

Cas kissed his thigh and pressed his finger deeper in, pumping it in and out as the muscles around it pulled it hungrily in. Dean made a sound like a dying whale and Cas pressed deeper.

“Ah!” The body on the bed jerked up and Cas pumped his finger harder. He sat up and kept his thigh on one of Dean’s, spreading it wider. His free hand ran up Dean’s belly, pushing the softness around, tweaking a nipple, squeezing his throat until he was bucking again. Dean’s hands were scratching at the headboard and mattress, trying to find some form of purchase to hold on to.

Cas ran his hand up and down’s Dean’s stomach, watching the skin stretch and harden as he arched his back beneath him. He added another finger and an absolutely filthy moan filled the room.

“Cas!”

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He brought his hand back to Dean’s cock and pumped it. Dean bucked wildly into it, hardening again. He squeezed the cold lube onto Dean’s hole, and the man gasped, biting his lip, trying to hold back his noises. Cas added a third finger and pressed against his prostate on every hit.

“Cas, now. I’m ready,” the man gasped out, sweat dripping down his hairline. Cas added a fourth digit, and Dean groaned, tight hole begging for more. “Cas, please.” He finally obliged, finding Dean ready, and pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the comforter. He pushed the man’s thighs up, exposing the gasping hole and pressed a kiss to the back of the knee before positioning himself and sliding in.

Dean was tight, even though he’d taken so much time to open him up. The heat enveloped him, and Cas had to pause halfway in to breathe in deeply. Dean waited patiently, and a moment later, Cas slid in. Dean exhaled once he was all the way in and smiled up at Cas.

“Hey, baby.” Cas pressed a kiss to his husbands mouth and bucked his hips gently. Dean bit his lip again and let out a slow moan. “That’s right. That’s it, Cas.” Cas kissed down his jawline and nipped at the red spots on Dean’s neck. He gave him one last deep kiss before sitting up.

He gripped each of Dean’s thighs in his hands, pushing down as he pulled out until only his head was left in Dean’s hole. Then he slammed his hips forward and pushed the thighs down as hard as he could. Dean cried out, head thrown back, back arching from the bed. His hands scrabbled for the sheets or pillows or anything to hold on to.

Cas thrust again, this time deeper and Dean’s eyes shot open.

“There! Right there. Fuck, Cas. Fuck, Jesus, Fuck!” Cas thrust faster, balls slamming against Dean’s ass.

“Dean,” he growled, and the man’s eyes shot to his, panicked and dark. “Grab your thighs.” Dean did as he said, pulling them back even further. Cas gripped his cock in his hand and pumped. The other hand pressed down on Dean’s chest. He slid it up until his fingers wrapped around Dean’s throat. The man beneath him threw back his head as far as it would go, baring his neck. Cas pressed his thumb down and tightened his grip on Dean’s cock. The head was dribbling, swollen and red, so he thrust harder.

Dean was crying out beneath him, and Cas released his grip and spread his thighs even further. Tears were leaking out of Dean’s eyes, and Cas could feel the man tightening around him.

“Cas— Ugh, Cas, I’m gonna…” His chest heaved and Cas nodded above.

“It’s alright, Dean,” he told him, voice low. “Come. Come for me.” Dean cried out and white stripes painted his stomach. Dean’s walls clenched unbearably hard around Cas and the man came with a deep grown. His arms gave out and he fell loose on top of Dean.

The two laid there, breathing heavily. Dean’s legs sprawled open, and Cas got to his elbows as he pulled out. Dean let out a whimper as the sudden emptiness, and Cas leans back on his calves to watch the white cum seep out of Dean’s hole.

“Beautiful.” He surges forward and pulls Dean up into a deep kiss. “Beautiful and you’re all _mine_.”

 

**After- Six Years Later**

They didn’t mean to start hanging out after the one lunch. It was just something that sort of happened. At first, Cas had been shopping at TJ Maxx for a new cat bed since Sir Flufferkins’ last one was torn to pieces, and Dean had been looking for a new pair of cheap work boots. Then Cas had needed to stop by the bank Saturday morning to deposit his paycheck, and the lines at Dean’s usual bank had been getting so long lately, that he’d started making the trip out to the one on the other side of town, which of course was the same bank company they’d used when they were married.

It seemed that Cas was at the library for a research paper, the same time Dean went in looking for baby books for Jess. Then it was Dean’s turn to pick up a pizza for Monday night football with Victor and Benny. Gabriel was in town and wouldn’t settle for anything other than that one pizza place he’d been to three years before, and of course, Cas was designated to go buy it since Gabriel _was_ the guest, after all.

Dean had found it strange at first. Six years of living in the same town and never once had they run into each other. When he thought about it, it was probably stranger they hadn’t run into each other more. Then they started making planned meetings. Like ones where one person would go somewhere and the other would show up _on purpose_.

Cas invited him to a play that Gabriel’s girlfriend, Kali, would be starring in. Dean invited Cas to a Jayhawks game, where they would, of course, spend the whole time bickering over which player had the greatest ass. Then Cas got free tickets from a coworker to The Who’s show in Kansas City, and, of course, he’d thought of Dean first, seeing as Dean still had that tape in the glove compartment.

It was when he invited Cas along to a lunch and a game of bowling with Ben, that Dean knew he should be concerned with where this relationship was going. He and Cas had a lot of things that they were avoiding talking about, and while Dean preferred it that way, it wasn’t exactly healthy. If Cas was going to be having lunch with Ben and him more in the future, then Dean needed to clear the table of some baggage of theirs.

Dean had dropped Ben off at Lisa’s and was now heading up the stairs of his apartment. Cas leaned against Dean’s door, fidgeting and straightened up when he saw him.

“Hey.” Dean reached around him to unlock the door and nodded in greeting.

“Didn’t I just see you?”

“I was halfway home when I realized something.” Cas shuffled from one foot to the other, biting his lip nervously. Dean held the door open for the other man and flipped on a light as he made his way into his apartment. Dean hadn’t gotten around to replacing the furniture Carmen had taken with her since no one had come into his apartment since she’d left. His couch was currently a sleeping bag with several pillows and blankets built up around it. Dean cleared his throat and nodded toward nest on the floor.

“I recently got rid of my couch,” he explained, palming the back of his neck as a blush began to spread. “I haven’t had time to get a new one.”

“You could always build it,” Cas suggested. The apartment was full of Dean’s handmade furniture. The base that the television sat on, the kitchen table, the cutting board, the dresser, the bed frame that used to be shared between the two of them. The knowledge that Cas knew him so well combined with the thoughts of Cas and he’s relationship that Dean had been having all day began to weigh on him.

“What did you realize, Cas?” His tone was harsh, but he couldn’t help it. The other man shuffled nervously again and plopped down on the nest, leaving his shoes on in case Dean made him leave.

“I don’t want to go home.” He looked up pitifully from the floor, and Dean sighed.

“What, are the paint fumes everywhere? You know, you’re supposed to air out the room while you do it.”

“No, Dean.” He looked down at his thumbs as if contemplating what to say next. “I don’t want to go home without you.”

“ _Jesus,_ Cas.” Dean looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “So we’re gonna have this talk now, then?” He kicked his shoes off and headed into the kitchen. “You mind if I start dinner. I don’t want to do this without getting this started.”

“What are you making?” Dean hated when Cas sneaked up on him, and his appearing silently in the kitchen doorway was one of those instances. He jumped and pressed a hand to the fridge to calm him racing heart.

“Don’t _do_ that, Cas!” The other man looked sheepish before he toed off his shoes as well and lined them up along the wall. He took off his trench coat and Dean tried to keep his mouth from watering as the man leaned over to put it on the ground next to his shoes.

“Uh, stir fry, actually.” Cas looked momentarily surprised, and then a dopey smile crossed his lips.

“I love that.”

“I know.” Dean pulled out the bag of already cut chicken that he had cooked the night before while watching _The Real Housewives of New York_ , a guilty pleasure that practically everyone knew Dean had. He pulled out the potato peeler and carrots and passed them to Cas. Then he passed him a cutting board and set up some pots on the stove.

“I’ll go ahead and put the bacon on since that has to be done first. Then I’ll work on getting the peas done. Peel those, and then I’ll find the shredder.” They worked in diligent silence until the bacon was done. Then Cas asked if he could put some music on and disappeared into the living room. A moment later, and eighties love ballad drifted into the kitchen. Cas reappeared in the doorway with the Pat Benatar album in his hands.

“You kept this!” He was grinning from ear to ear, reading the track listing on the back. Dean added water to the rice and placed the pot back on the stove.

“It wasn’t mine to get rid of,” he replied. Cas leaned against the counter, stroking the cover gently.

“I love this album.” His smile faded, and he kept it hugged tightly to his chest. “ _Love is a battlefield_ ,” he sang gently under his breath along with the music. The singer’s signature was scribbled in the corner. Dean had looked everywhere for a signed copy of it and had probably paid some poor salesman’s Christmas bonus when he’d gotten it for Cas, but it had been worth it after seeing the smile on Cas’ face then _and_ the one on his lips now.

Dean pulled a bottle of soy sauce out of the fridge and added some to the rice as the water steamed out of it. Then he went ahead and added the cooked peas and carrots. The chicken went in last, then he added a bit of Mrs. Dash, tasted a spoonful, and carried two platefuls to the living room to where Cas was spinning around to the music. He spotted the plates and fell back into the nest on the floor. Dean handed him a plate before slowly kneeling down. He crossed his legs and ate hunched over the plate.

“What are we doing, Cas?” He didn’t want to be the one to start this conversation, but the other man clearly wasn’t going to. “I mean, what are we… What are we _doing_?” Cas’ lips closed around a spoonful of the rice, and a pinched look came over his face.

“Needs more Mrs. Dash,” he critiqued, and Dean tossed him the bottle, rolling his eyes.

“Your cholesterol is going to be so high when you’re old.” Dean took another mouthful before saying, “Now stop avoiding the question.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed and sat up, laying the plate to the side, before deciding that he wanted it to keep his hands busy. “You were a very important part of my life for many years—”

“We’ve been divorced longer than we were ever together,” Dean couldn’t help but point out, earning himself a glare from his ex-husband.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that what we had wasn’t important.”

“Or good.”

“Great.” A pause. Then a sigh that echoed throughout the room. “I think I was scared that you were going to leave me, so I left first.” Cas pushed around the rice on his plate and frowned. Dean’s teeth gritted together and he set his plate aside.

“Don’t give me that.” Anger coursed through Dean’s voice. “Don’t you give me that! I called you every day for weeks after you left.” Cas looked down guiltily at his food. “I left you countless voicemails. I called Anna. I showed up to your fucking Religious Theory class, trying to get some explanation from you.” Dean’s voice broke, and he looked down at his hands, clenched in fists as he willed the tears and the anger and the _feelings_ away. “Jesus, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. Sam had to fly back from Standard. Mom didn’t know what to do. _My family_ was hurt, Cas! You hurt my mother and my brother and I—” He bit down on his hand and felt his shoulders shake.

“You were family, and you left us.” Cas avoided his gaze instead putting his plate to the side and getting up, walking behind Dean towards his coat and shoes.

“No! You do not get to walk out a second time just because you can’t deal with— Uh, Cas?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Cas’ arms felt strange around him, and it took Dean a moment to figure out what was happening. The man he’d been yelling at was crouched behind him with both of his arms wrapped around Dean’s waist. He tugged Dean’s head back and cradled it between his neck and shoulders. It was the most awkward, uncomfortable position that Dean had ever been in in his entire life.

“Cas, please stop this. It’s not comforting at all.” Cas pulled away looking guilty and shrugged.

“Sorry. It was the only thing that I could think of doing to make you stop hurting.” Which was, uh, yeah, okay. Cas stood back up, Dean following suit. “I guess I never really apologized for that.”

“For leaving me?”

“Yeah. For that.”

“Jesus, we’re a train wreck.” When Dean looked back up, Cas had a smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… we’re really shitty at this, aren’t we?” It really was humorous, Dean supposed. They were so horrible with talking things out and releasing stress, always taking on more and more until the dam of feelings broke through. They looked at each other and then a smile broke out across Dean’s face. He pressed his lips together to try and keep it down. Cas giggled first. An actual giggle. Then his fist was in front of his mouth, trying to hold back the laughter, but Dean had already started laughing.

“Jesus, we’re so bad at this,” he gasped out before falling into another spell of laughter. “And we’re trying to get back together.”

“Fucking idiots, I swear.” Cas clenched his gut, bent over laughing, his hands on his knees. Dean fell to the floor, bracing himself with his right arm, which set Cas off laughing even more. Dean’s stomach muscles hurt, and he had tears in his eyes again; this time for an entirely different reason. Cas was wiping at his eyes too, and then shook his head.

“We’re pathetic.” That set them off on another round of laughter, but when they were finally quiet again, Dean held out his hand towards Cas.

“Friends?” Cas looked at the hand and bit his lip before reaching out another hand.

“Friends.”

“At least until we figure shit out?”

“You’re not giving up on us completely and running for the hills while you still can?”

“Hey.” Dean held up his hands. “I’ll stay if you’ll stay.”

Cas held his gaze this time as he said, “I’ll stay.” Dean felt a blush rising up his already red cheeks and looked away, swallowing heavily as he did so.

“We’ve still got a lot of stuff to work out, Cas. I want… I need answers, okay?” Cas nodded solemnly, and Dean finally released a sigh of relief.

“But we can still hang out right?”

“Dude.” Dean gave him a look, and Cas pulled his plate back onto his lap, scooting over until he was next to Dean.

“Well,” he asked, nodding towards the television. “What are we watching tonight?” Dean smiled around a spoonful of salty stir-fry and reached for the remote, passing it to Cas. When Cas settled on _Real Housewives_ reruns, Dean sank further into the blankets, empty plate pushed aside to cleaned later and a warm arm pressing gently into this shoulder. And if Dean fell asleep before he could tell Cas it would be better if he left, well, no one had to know.

And if both plates were sitting clean on the drying rack the next morning and Dean had the blankets tucked in around his shoulders, the ghost of a kiss pressed lightly to his temple, well, who was to tell?

 

**Before- Twenty-Three**

Cas spent one Saturday a month volunteering at the animal shelter a few blocks away. Dean would disappear under the hood of Baby and tinker around for a bit, before deciding to take her out for a spin that almost always left him two hours out of Lawrence, tipping over into the Nebraska soil. Dean would drive around, visit a dive or two, before heading back to Cas, who had hopefully rinsed the cat hair from his skin and hidden the clothes he’d worn that day at the bottom of the laundry hamper.

Dean would wander in smelling slightly of beer but mostly of sweat and leather. Cas was almost always sprawled out of the bed when he returned, book opened but face down on his chest, a quiet snore as his chest rose and fell peacefully. Dean would step into the shower to rinse the sweat and beer from his skin and would be out again before the water even turned warm. Then he’d flick off the light, crawl into bed curling around Cas, and apologize for waking him just like all the times before. And Cas would tell him that it was all right, would pull him closer, and maneuver one of Dean’s thighs between his. He’d let the scent of leather and cinnamon that never really left Dean’s skin envelope him in a bubble of comfort that only fully arrived in these small moments.

Cas knew that there was more to this scent then comfort. It was _Dean_ , and Dean was home.

 

It was Dean’s weekend with Ben, but instead of picking him up early on Saturday morning and staying the night at Lisa’s until late Sunday evening, he had called Cas to ask if the toddler could stay at their place for the weekend. Dean knew Lisa had been looking forward to her date with this fireman that had stopped by the yoga studio on Tuesday after a false alarm. He figured she might like to stay out for once and not have to worry about getting home in time to pay Krissy for the night.

Dean brought him over Friday night, and at first, Ben had been excited to see Dean. However, once the excitement wore off, he looked around the new apartment and, finding himself motherless in a new location, began to cry. Dean knelt down immediately, catching the signs in the split second that they appeared before a loud roar was released from the small boy. Cas on the other hand, not remembering the same roars that his younger twin sisters would let loose, winced and stepped back under the unexpected noise. Ben stood defenseless in the center of the room as Dean pulled him forward into his arms and turned to Cas.

“Grab his teddy bear from the closet.” Cas nodded and hurried from the room as fast as he could. He could hear Dean shushing the boy and humming a song under his breath when the boy would take breaths in between screams. The crying was still loud from where he was standing in their bedroom. He searched the closet from top to bottom, knocking entire shelves clean, but there was no stuffed animal.

“Cas!” Dean shouted from the living room. Cas opened their drawers, but there was still no sign of the stuffed bear.

“It’s not here, Dean.” He ran back into the living room, sacrificing his ear drums for his lover and shot a frantic look to the man. Ben was hitting Dean’s chest now. Dean put Ben back on the floor and ran off to the bedroom. Cas stepped forward, unsure if he should leave the boy in the room by himself, even though he didn’t think that there was very much for the boy to hurt himself on. Still, Cas was always hearing freak stories about misplaced objects that can get knocked over and put the kid in a coma for a week, so he approached Ben in caution.

Ben stared up at him, chubby cheeks so red that Cas wondered how he could breathe. Then, as if the thought had occurred to Ben too, the boy suddenly hiccupped. The wailing stopped long enough for Cas to let out a sigh and slide down to the floor next to the boy. Ben hiccupped again and held his hands up to his lips in wonder. He looked over to Cas as if expecting a logical explanation for this intruding occurrence.

“Don’t look at me, buddy. I’m just here for the cutie in the bedroom,” he told the toddler. Ben’s head tilted slightly to the left as he observed Cas. Then a smile with tiny baby teeth was released upon the older man, and Cas felt his heart melt. Ben stumbled to Cas’ side and placed his hands upon the man’s cheek.

“Uncle Cas!” the boy cried. “Uncle Cas. Smile.” Cas was in fact smiling at the small boy and wondered if it was really such a strange sight to see. After all, he’d been smiling when Ben had first been released unto the world and he was standing beside Lisa’s bedside looking down at the tiny, innocent creature. He’d been smiling the first time he held him and the last which was only a few months after the first. He’d smiled at Ben’s first birthday, and at his second which had just passed. But he supposed Ben wouldn’t remember those times, and Cas really hadn’t been smiling much lately anyway.

Ben hiccupped again and Cas picked the boy up, carrying him into the kitchen for a glass of milk. He filled the sippy cup carefully, avoiding the small hands that tried to pour it for him, and screwed the cap on before passing it over to the honored guest of the night. When he turned around, Dean was leaning against the doorway, smiling at the pair, teddy bear tucked under his arm.

“Jeez, Cas. You never told me you were the miracle worker.” He stepped forward and handed the bear to Ben who squeezed its neck tightly to his chest.

“Oh, no. Not me. The hiccups did all the work. I just delivered the milk.” Cas liked this, the teasing. It had been too long since he and Dean had last teased each other about something. They were so stressed recently, Dean with work, Cas with school. Having Ben in their home, let out some of the tension that had been building between them these last few months.

“Well, I don’t think they did _all_ the work now,” Dean replied, stepping closer, gaze lingering on Cas’ lips. “You should give yourself some credit, too, you know. Pouring milk can be a very—” Step. “messy—” Step. “job.” Dean’s hands were firm on Cas’ hips as he pressed their lips together. Cas breathed in sweetly, taking in Dean’s smell and touch. _It has been so long…_

A squirming body pushed them apart, and Ben sat there angrily, glaring at his sippy cup. Dean pulled him from Cas’ arms, and Cas almost missed the feel of the little guy hugging him tightly before he realized that he was Castiel Milton and he didn’t care for children.

However, watching Dean walk the boy around his new living quarters for the weekend, Cas wondered why he had been so uncomfortable around the children at first. And even later that night, when he stood in the doorway as Dean read Ben a bedtime story, Cas wondered what it would be like for them to have some of their own.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Dean returned to his home a week after he and Cas had had their first talk. He woke up at six and decided to go ahead over and start on the nursery, which he had never gotten around to doing and maybe make breakfast for everyone since he’d be there. Sam had already headed off to the law firm and Jess was just returning from her run. He pulled the bag of loose chocolate chips from the fridge and began making pancakes, while she showered.

When Mary finally made it downstairs Jess had already left for her interview at the hospital. Dean set a pair of pancakes on a plate for her and Mary patted her sons back as she slowly took her seat at the table, releasing a long groan when she was finally seated.

“Getting old, woman?” Dean teased, filling her glass with orange juice. Mary eyed him and shot back, “So, Dean, when do you think you and Carmen will tie the knot and give me some grandchildren?” Dean grimaced and Mary laughed.

“You’ve got one grandkid on the way. I think that’s enough for now.” Mary speared at the pancakes with her fork and moaned around a mouthful of chocolatey goodness. Dean sipped his coffee as she ate. When Mary finished, he took her plate to the sink and rinsed the syrup from it before placing it in the dishwasher. He poured her a cup of coffee and passed over the creamer. Mary watched her son’s back as he worked to clean up the rest of the kitchen. His shoulders were relaxed as he cleaned and while Mary knew he would always have a level of comfort being back in this house, he was treating it more like a home than he did his own apartment.

“Dean, honey. Why don’t you come sit with me for a minute?” Mary kicked out a chair and patted the seat as Dean put the chocolate chips back in the fridge.

“Is everything okay, Mom?” He nervously sat at the edge of the chair and crossed his arms on the table, watching her.

“That’s what I wanted you to tell me, sweetie,” she replied, stirring a spoonful of sugar into the bitter, brown liquid. “You’ve been here an awful lot lately. Are you and Carmen fighting?”

Dean shifted in his chair and picked at the tablecloth. “It’s just that with the baby coming and all I want to make sure the nursery is ready. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

“Dean…” He avoided the pitying look in her eyes and instead stood up, pushing in the chair behind him. He hesitated at the door and looked back over his shoulder at her.

“I was thinking that when the nursery is finished, we should repaint Sam and Jess’ room. It hasn’t been done since his twelfth birthday, and I think Jess might like a light green if they’re going to have all that dark furniture in there.”

“Dean Winchester, you should have been in interior design.” Mary smiled up at her boy who glared at her.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll be going now.” He disappeared into the other room and Mary called after him, “Okay, sweetie. Have fun with your manly painting business.”

 

Dean finished putting the second coat of paint on the walls shortly before noon. He had hooked up his old boom box from high school and brought his box of cassettes from Baby in with him. After hearing “Stairway to Heaven” rewound for the third time, Mary decided it was time that she got back into gardening and disappeared into the backyard to do some weeding even though the November cool was already causing the ground to harden.

Dean had already had two beers and was pulling a third from the fridge when he noticed the pamphlets on the dining room table. There were different pictures of baby rooms in the first one and he looked at the mobile hanging above the crib in a blue bedroom. There were little hand painted circles that were supposed to be planets dangling around one big yellow circle that was supposed to be the sun. On the side, the price was listed, and Dean snorted. _I could make something like that using the scraps from the auto shop_ , he thought before tossing the paper bitterly back on the table.

The kitchen door opened and Mary stepped into the house, pulling off her muddy shoes. She noticed the beer in Dean’s hand and her eyes narrowed.

“Starting already?” Dean looked down at the beer and returned it to the fridge.

“Uh, no.” Mary raised her eyebrows and glanced towards the recycling box next to the trash can. She spotted the two bottles he’d already drunk and turned back to her son.

“Dean, what’s going on?” She crossed her arms and pulled out a chair at the dining room table.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Then why haven’t I seen Carmen in three months?”

“You know she works the night shift. She’s always tired during the day. You know how it is.” Mary Winchester narrowed her eyes at her son and kept her gaze strong until he shivered and glanced away.

“Fine,” he muttered, breaking under her gaze. “We broke up.” The doubt in his mother’s eyes fell as concern took over. “I’m okay, Mom,” he told her before she could ask. “I’m fine. Really. It’s been a few weeks now.”

“You should have told me, honey.”

“I didn’t want to bring everyone down.”

“Dean, we’re your family. We love you. You know that.” The doubt was back in Mary’s eyes as she observed her son.

“Well, I didn’t want to look like a loser, then,” he snapped back. Mary was taken aback by his sharp tone, and she placed a hand on his arm.

“Honey, no one thinks you’re a loser. Not me. Not Sam. Not Jess.” Dean stepped back, out of her reach, feeling too vulnerable under her gaze.

“It’s just…” He swallowed feeling his throat close up. “Sam’s already married. He’s gonna have a kid soon, and I can’t even keep it together long enough to keep a girlfriend.”

“It takes time to find someone nowadays, Dean. Your brother just got freakishly lucky. I mean, honestly, I never thought he’d find someone who likes getting up at six AM as much as he does.”

“Not to mention eats all that organic crap he likes,” Dean added.

“Or watches those indie short films that are all in different languages.” Mary smiled as her son laughed. “But he did, and I promise you, you will too.”

“I know. I just…” Dean shuffled, and Mary wondered if maybe they hadn’t covered what had been bothering him after all. “I, uh. I’ve already been married, Mom.”

“What? I had no idea!” Dean glared at his mother, and Mary bit back a grin. He still looked like the little five year old who had been upset when John wouldn’t buy him an ice cream in the middle of December. “Sorry. Continue.”

“No, you ruined it.”

“Dean, just tell me what you were going to say. I promise not to make fun of you anymore.”

Dean bit his lip and shifted his weight to his other foot. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve never felt happier than when I was with… than when I was married, Mom. Nobody made me feel like home more than he did and nobody has made me feel so at home since. It’s like these last six year I’ve just been…driving. No destination, just going, and I’m tired of being on the road. I want to want to go home in the evening. I want to cook greasy food for someone and go to movies with them. I want to… Well, I don’t want to go running, but I want what Sam and Jess have. I want a home again.”

Two arms wrapped around his waist, and Dean curled around his mother’s hug, tongue feeling heavy in his throat.

“You’ll find that someone, baby, but you have to let others take care of themselves. You do too much.” They stood there for a few minutes until Jess returned with bags from Babies R Us and a smile on her face. She showed them the car seat she had picked out and a few stuffed animals that had been on sale.

“You’ll build the furniture, Dean?” she asked him, giving him an out just like she had done every time she’d seen him these last few weeks and asked the same question.

Like usual he told her, “Of course, Jess. I’ve already got the dresser done. I just need to paint it, and then I’ll start on the crib.” Jess picked up one of the pamphlets from the table, the one Dean had looked through, and pointed at a crib with a bell-shaped headboard, showing him the design she was wanting. Dean nodded along and Mary took this as her chance to escape back to the garden. There was only so much baby talk that she could take, and considering she lived with Sam and Jess, she had reached her limit.

Mary spent the rest of the day pulling weeds from the ground. When the bugs decided to come join her for dinner, or more specifically _have_ her for dinner, she finally returned to her kitchen, where Dean was cooking steaks just to mess with Sam’s no-red meat diet. Sam was talking to Jess’ belly even though she was only three months in and her bump was barely showing yet. Mary washed up and had dinner with her family.

When Sam disappeared to his room for the night and Dean finally headed out after promising Jess he’d be back with the dresser next Saturday, she kissed her son goodbye, locked up for the night, and leaned against the heavy door, tired in every part of her body, wondering if maybe she was getting old.

 

**Before- Twenty-Two**

His palms were covered in sweat and he wiped them on his slacks again. It was ten in the morning but it was also June, and the heat combined with his nerves made Cas feel like a sinner in church. Dean pulled the car up to the mailbox, but instead of pulling into the driveway, he put her in park and turned off the engine. They both sat for a moment, before Dean took a deep breath and looked over at Cas.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Yeah,” Cas lied. “Of course. Everything will be fine, Dean. There’s no need to worry.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Dean went along with Cas’ false bravado, pretending that he was the one needing comfort. At this point, he couldn’t do much to make his fiancé feel better, so he merely nodded and pushed open the car door. When Cas still hadn’t moved, he opened his door for him and gripped both of his hands tightly between his.

“You’ll be okay, Cas.”

“What if they’re not…  I mean, sure, they’ve never outright said anything about people like us, but the church doesn’t like us much—”

“Understatement,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“—I mean, the probably won’t be too angry, but who knows. We haven’t have a queer in the family before.” Cas tried to sound hopeful, but when he looked up into Dean’s eyes, the doubt absolutely flooded them.

“Baby,” Dean cooed, pulling Cas’ head forward. Cas briefly had time to hope his family wasn’t watching before their lips were pressing to each other’s. Dean petted his face until Cas’ nerves had faded for an entire different kind of butterflies.

“Look, Cas.” He lifted his gaze to meet Dean’s, and the other man continued. “Whatever happens in there, you’ve got me. I know I’m not a lot, but…” The man looked abashed for a moment before moving on. “But I’m here, and I always will be.”

“That’s it? That’s your pep talk. I was hoping for something a little better than that.” Dean glowered at him. “Maybe a ‘Hey Cas, it’s okay if your family disowns you, because I’m secretly a millionaire, and we’ll be fine until you get a real job’ or a ‘Actually, I already told your family, Cas, and they’re totally fine with it’. I don’t suppose you have anything like that up your sleeve?”

“Sorry, babe. Not today, I don’t.” Cas sighed but let Dean pull him up and shut the door behind him. “However, we could not use words at all, and I could just get them all with my incredibly good looks.”

“Nah. That would only work if you were still covered in grease.”

“Oh, so it’s the grease that made you fall for me?”

“Dean, you were bent over the hood of my car in the thinnest blue jeans I’ve ever laid eyes on. Of course, it wasn’t the grease. That was just a benefit,” Cas explained as they reached the front porch. He lifted a hand to knock, but before he could Rachel and Hael had yanked the door open and pounced on him. Cas stepped back, bumping into Dean who kept him upright as the girls talked over each other and bounced up and down.

“Cas, guess what. I got an A on my French paper.”

“Cas, guess what. I’ve perfected Beethoven’s Concerto in D Major on the violin. Wanna hear?”

“Well, I helped Mom make lunch today. We’re having a turkey, and she let me make the green bean casserole all by myself.”

“Father Bowen said that I could join the orchestra at church if I kept up my school work.” Rachel, seeming to have nothing better to say, glared at her twin sister as Hael got the last word. Then she noticed the extra person standing behind Cas.

“Who’s that?” Cas stepped away from the energetic fourteen year olds and laid a hand on Dean’s back. The sound of heels clacking down the hallway got louder, and Cas cleared his throat.

“This is Dean. Are you going to say hello?”

“Hello, Dean,” the girls did in a manner that really reminded him of _The Shining_. Naomi Milton reached the front door and pushed through the girls to take her youngest son into her arms.

“Hello, my dear boy.” She kissed his cheek and pushed him away to get a good look at her child. Then she noticed Dean and her shoulders tensed. “Hello there.” Dean offered a pitiful wave and her eyes narrowed. Behind her, the twins exchanged mischievous glances and stepped back into the house, grinning wickedly at the scene before them.

“Hi, uh, Ma’am.” Dean cleared his throat, and Cas took his hand in his, rubbing his palm with his thumb.

“I see,” Naomi said, wincing as she turned around.

“Well, come inside then. The turkey is almost done.” They stepped into the foyer, and Dean took a moment to look around at the high ceiling. A chandelier dangled from the center of it. Several fake plans lined the hallway to the kitchen from which Dean could here a male voice. A young man, older than Cas, stood next to the window whispering heatedly into his cell phone. When they entered the room, he held up a finger and left for the dining room.

“Michael, I presume?” Dean asked, knowing that whoever that man had been, he didn’t fit the description Cas gave of Gabriel.

“Yes,” Naomi answered before Cas could. “He’s on the phone with an international client. He’s a very important man you see, and the law firm Michael works at thought only he would be fit for the position of hiring such a man. What is it that you do, Dan?”

“Dean, Ma’am, and I’m a mechanic. I work at my— at a friend’s auto shop in Lawrence. That’s where Cas and I met actually.” Dean’s voice faltered under her cold stare, and Cas stepped in.

“That’s not true, honey. We actually met on the side of the rode when my car broke down and you were the only person dumb enough to leave in the middle of a thunder storm and come rescue me.” Cas tried to make it sound cute and heroic, but his nerves just led to the story sounding desperate and oversold. Naomi’s eyes narrowed at Dean.

“I suppose you’ll try to manage the shop at some point,” she told him. “I presume you went to school for that sort of thing?”

“Uh, no, Ma’am.” Dean shifted in discomfort. “Just high school.” Cas was tense beside him as Naomi grimaced.

“Of course. Castiel, may I please speak to you in the study?” Cas looked to Dean who nodded before leaving the room behind his mother. Dean shuffled his feet awkwardly. Michael stepped back into the house, snapping his phone shut before noticing Dean.

“Um, who are you?” His voice wasn’t demeaning, just confused by the sight of the blue jean clad man standing in the pristine kitchen.

“Dean,” Dean introduced, holding out his hand. Michael stared at it for a moment before gently taking it into his hand. “I’m here with Cas.”

“Of course you are,” Michael said, and Dean wondered what that was supposed to mean. They stood there in silence until Rachel and Hael entered the room, mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Hey, Michael. Dean is Cas’ boyfriend.” Dean shifted as Michael looked him over.

“Is that so?” he said curiously, as if Dean were a lab rat. Dean shifted under the three gazes and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh, I really think Cas should—”

“I heard him tell Mom so. They’re in the study. She sounded very angry with him,” Rachel informed him.

“Cas is in trouble,” Hael sang with a cruel smile.

“Yeah, she sounded angrier than that time Dad left,” Rachel added. Michael smiled down at them amusedly, but Dean ran from the room, hurrying down the hall to find Cas. He heard their voices coming from a door at the end of the hall and stopped outside, wondering if he should interrupt after all. If he did, any good that Naomi may have thought about Dean would surely be gone then. He raised a hand wondering if he should knock, but her voice stopped him on the other side.

“I understand that you’ll want to experiment with different types of people, Castiel, but a _mechanic_? A mechanic who hasn’t even gone to college? What could this relationship provide you with at all? Unless he’s related to someone in the Religious Studies department…” Naomi trailed off and Dean heard her heels thudding on the carpet as she paced the floor.

“Mom,” Cas sighed. Dean’s insides ached. He gripped the doorknob in his hand, ready to enter if Cas needed saving. “Dean makes me very happy. He’s not some… _experiment_ , as you put it. I love him, and he loves me.”

“You love him? You _love_ him? How much will you love him when he’s gone every night? How much will you love him when he finds someone else because you’ll both be so busy? How much will you love him when he puts the blame on you for not bringing home enough income? How much will you love him then?” Naomi’s voice shook in anger.

“In July, Dean’s brother is going to Stanford. Dean will be driving cross country to help him move in. I’ll be with him.” Cas’ voice was hard, distant, and cold. He took a deep breath. “After we’ve moved Sam in, Dean and I will be getting married.” The heels stopped moving. Dean could only hear the pounding of his heart. The room was so silent, he could hear Naomi’s slow exhale, as if she was trying to contain her anger.

“I did not pay for a Religious Studies Degree just so you could marry a mechanic, Castiel,” she bit out. “It’s an honest trade but not the right one for you.”

“Mom, I understand that you’re angry, that this isn’t what you want for me or that you think I’m rushing into things, but this isn’t you and dad that I’m talking about. It’s me and Dean. I’m going to marry him come July whether you accept it or not, but I would rather do it with your blessing.” There was silence again, and both Dean and Cas waited for her response.

“Castiel, I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you, and that _man_ is not what’s best. You do not have my blessing, and if you choose to go through with this marriage… then you will do so without any help from me.”

“Very well.” Cas cleared his throat and Dean knew the man probably had tears in eyes. Dean opened the door and, ignoring Naomi completely, grabbed Cas’ hand in his.

“Let’s get out of here, Cas.” Cas stumbled after Dean and down the hall. Michael and the twins stood in the kitchen doorway, watching them as they left. Dean walked Cas out to the car, opening the door for him, and got in his own side.

“Hey, Cas, buddy, at least we tried, right?” He tried to smile and looked over at his fiancé who stared out the window and swallowed heavily.

“I didn’t think she’d actually…” His voice broke and Dean drove towards the closest interstate. Five hours and a few gas stops later, Dean pulled into a small motel just outside Cedar Rapids. Dean checked them in and led Cas to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. When they made love that night it was silent and done to forget.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Castiel and Gabriel went to Anna’s for Christmas. Gabriel and Kali had broken up again, and Anna’s boyfriend was insistent on visiting his family for the holiday, so the siblings had a dinner of turkey sandwiches and a carrot cake that Gabriel had made. Anna had stocked up on frozen mashed potatoes and canned green beans which they warmed them throughout the night.

A _Home Alone_ marathon was on TV so they stretched out in front of it, Anna and Castiel on the sofa and Gabriel on the floor in front of them. They drifted off sometime around the second time watching the first film, and he didn’t wake up until seven in the morning when Anna’s foot kicked him in the face. He shifted slowly so as not to wake Anna and wandered into the kitchen. Gabriel was already up, munching on more of the carrot cake and pouring some caramel syrup into his coffee mug. He pointed to the coffee maker were a fresh pot was sitting, and Castiel poured himself a mug.

“How long have you been up?” he asked his brother, sitting down at the table across from him and digging the fork into a corner of the cake.

“Four-ish. I got a sugar high and couldn’t fall back asleep.” He hmmed and sipped at his coffee.

“So, Cassie. How’s Dean?” Gabriel’s voice was teasing, but Castiel hadn’t had his minimum requirement of one cup of coffee yet, so he just glared at his brother. “Oh, come on, baby bro. Every time I text you something it’s ‘oh, I hung out with Dean today’ or ‘Dean says that film is horrible’ or ‘I had a wet dream about Dean last night. What do I do Gabe?’”

“I do not say that, Gabriel.” Castiel glowered. His brother laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Same song, different chorus, brother. You and the Winchester doof back together or something then?” He leaned back in his chair, and Castiel almost wished it would fall.

“He’s not a _doof_ , and no, we’re not back together. We’re just… friends, I guess.” Then he eyed his brother. “Why do you care?”

“Because last time you two love birds were together, he broke your heart,” Gabriel pointed out. “It’s my job to care.” Castiel felt a twist of guilt deep in his stomach, and his face must have shown it, because a moment later, Gabriel’s chair was hitting the floor, and the smaller man was leaning forward over the table.

“That may not be how it happened, Gabriel.” The man’s devious grin fell, and he narrowed his eyes at his little brother. “I thought you knew… I thought Anna had told you or something. I guess I didn’t really explain it all that well.”

“Explain what, Castiel?”

“Dean didn’t leave me, Gabe. I left him.” His brother closed his eyes and sighed.

“I know that much. _Why_ did you leave him?” The younger man shuffled in his seat and winced.

“I, uh, went to talk to Naomi, and—”

“Cas, why the fuck would you do that?”

“She was helping me, Gabe.”

“She’s never helpful. She’s manipulative. Where do you think I learned all of my pranks from? She enjoys seeing people in misery, Castiel!”

“Not her children!” he yelled back.

“Especially her children! Do you think Anna and I are spending our Christmas on her couch because we didn’t want you to be alone?” Castiel had, in fact, thought that. He shrank back into the chair foolishly. “Oh my god,” Gabriel laughed, although nothing seemed to be funny. “You really believed that. Jesus.” He got up and walked around the kitchen, running a hand through his hair.

“I stopped speaking to Mom back in college. After nine-eleven, Kali and I joined this protest that was against going to war in the Middle East. We made the front page of the paper, and she basically cut me off at that point.” Castiel sat quietly as his brother wearily told the story. “Mom blamed it all on Kali, saying she was manipulating me. It didn’t work, but then she started saying that I was holding Kali back from her future on the Senate, that I kept doing dumb stuff that would come back and bite her in the ass later, that Kali would be better off without me. Any of this sound familiar?”

Castiel nodded so he continued, “I almost fell for it. Even now, I sometimes hear her voice, especially when Kali and I are in a rough patch. After the first few break-ups, I finally told her everything.” A wistful look came over his face and he smiled sadly at his younger brother. “She said, ‘Screw the Senate’. That’s what she told me. S’what she still tells me.”

Castiel had only seen his brother this serious once before, right after their father had left for the final time. Gabriel intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on the fist.

“And Anna?” Castiel asked.

“Anna went looking for our father,” a voice behind him said. They both turned to the doorway where Anna was sleepily rubbing at her eyes. She stepped into the small kitchen and poured a pot of coffee before joining them at the table.

“After college, I moved to New York for a few months. At least, that’s what I told Mom. I was really forty miles east of Cincinnati. It was the last place I’d been able to track Dad too, but he was long gone by the time I got there.” She stared sadly down at the coffee and Castiel remembered that she and Gabriel had known Dad longer than he had. They had more memories of the man to be missed whereas Castiel mostly just saw a bearded figure, faceless, standing above him, smelling of coffee and pine.

“I’d been so close to finding him, and he’d just slipped through my fingers.” She stirred the coffee absentmindedly. “So I did something stupid. I called Naomi, and told her what was going on. She was furious, wanted me to come home and stop this search immediately. I fought back, said some things about their marriage that I shouldn’t have. Fifteen hours later, my credit card is declined, I’ve got twenty bucks in my purse for gas and nothing to eat.”

Castiel had still been in high school at the time. He hadn’t known what was going on, just that Anna wouldn’t be joining them for Christmas that year. Naomi had mentioned a boyfriend probably to get Castiel off her back about his sister’s whereabouts.

“You could have apologized.”

“I was twenty-three Cas. I was too stubborn to go back, and then Gabriel and Kali helped me out for a bit.” She trailed off, and Castiel connected the rest of the dots. He’d been dumb not to notice her ways. His sister and brother both figured it out on their own, but he’d listened to her and given her exactly what she wanted. He’d been weak.

He felt weak.

Castiel pressed his palms hard against his eye sockets, trying to force the nausea down. His head ached and his heart felt cold and heavy inside of him.

“I was an idiot is what you’re saying.” His brother and sister exchanged glances, and Anna stepped forward, hand patting his shoulder gently. “This is why you two were always so protective of me?” They exchanged looks again.

“Uh, Cassie, we care about you, because you’re our brother,” Gabriel said. “We just figured she might interfere in some way.”

“And you couldn’t warn me?”

“It wasn’t exactly a subject I wanted to bring up,” Anna explained. “And Gabe’s still dealing with what she told him.”

“Besides, we thought you would be able to handle her,” his older brother added. He still felt sick and rubbed at his temples. Gabriel snorted, “I mean, if anyone could walk away from Mom, we thought it’d be you. You’d never cared about her affection as a child. We thought she wouldn’t be able to sway you.” Castiel nodded but didn’t make a sound, taking in this new information.

And _oh, God_. He and Dean could have worked things out. They could have— he had to stop himself before he went any further into the past. His mother’s words weren’t what made him leave. He and Dean had had problems long before he’d gone to her. The fighting, the secrets, the anger. They had all but given up. They had walked to the ledge of the cliff on their own. Naomi’s words were just the push over the edge.

So Castiel pushed away from the table and shuffled into the living room where he curled up on the couch in front of another _Home Alone_ marathon. Gabriel brought the eggnog from the fridge, Anna carried in the rest of the carrot cake, and together they formed a warm nest of pillows and blankets and siblings around their little brother.

 

**Before- Twenty-Two**

Cas and Dean’s first fight happened after returning to their apartment with the IKEA furniture. Their apartment had been mostly empty since their wedding. Most of Cas’ furniture had been taken back to his mother’s house. Naomi Milton hadn’t been pleased with Cas’ choice in a lover and had disowned her son promptly after meeting the man. Dean’s furniture was so torn and old that they decided to just toss it and start anew. However, it was now October and Cas wanted a desk to study at so he could stop spending so much time at the library.

Dean had wanted to build the furniture of course, but Cas hadn’t wanted to wait that long for a dresser, bookshelf, desk, and kitchen table to be done, so they’d compromised. For now, they’d use the bed set that they had, including the mismatched bedside tables, but Cas wanted the dresser immediately, since his had broken after a rough weekend of marathon sex between the two of them, and Dean’s clothes had spent the last four years hopping from hamper to hamper. (Honestly, who doesn’t have a dresser? Dean friggin’ Winchester, that’s who.)

The bookshelf Cas would wait on, but he desperately wanted a desk for studying. For the last few months, if he’d studied at their home, he’d been using Dean’s kitchen table or his bed or the coffee table. However, they both agreed that the kitchen table could wait since neither of them ate at it anyway.

The entire trip to IKEA had been amazingly easy. Even one of the workers had pointed out that they were surprised to see a couple getting along so well when deciding upon furniture. Dean and Cas had taken it as a compliment and spent the entire ride home believing that their concord was a symbol of how strong their love for one another is. Once they had moved the boxes that contained their disassembled desk and dresser, Dean fell backwards onto the floor, sweat dripping down his spine. Cas tore open the top of a box and began removing the pieces.

“Cas?” Dean drawled out, a tired sigh slipping through his lips.

“What?” The blue-eyed man look over at Dean, so earnestly that Dean almost considered moving to kiss him. His tired bones won out and he remained on the recently shampooed carpet.

“What are you doing?”

“Pulling out the pieces. Can you go get your toolbox so when I figure out what’s what we can get started?”

“Cas…” It was a simple sigh, but Cas’ eyes narrowed as Dean didn’t move.

“What?”

“There’s not a shot in hell that I’m getting off this carpet right now, and there’s even less of a chance that I’m going to help you build that thing tonight. I’m going to shower, warm up leftovers, and get in bed where you’re going to ride my ass so hard I feel you for a week. Deal?” Cas’ lips turned down as he stared at Dean and realized that he was serious.

“No, Dean. No deal. I did not just argue with you for a week straight over buying or building a desk, just so once I got it, we would leave it in a corner to build itself.” His voice was hard, but it grew incredibly deeper as he leaned over Dean and said, “No. Deal.” Dean felt himself getting hard and shifted his hips slightly as he tried to subtly rearrange himself.

“We’ll work on it tomorrow, Cas. Midterms just ended. You’re not going to be up all night studying anyway.”

“Actually, I do have work to do, so yes, it does need to be built tonight.” Dean could tell that Cas was lying. He averted his eyes when he’d spoken and Dean tried not to let it get to him as he replied, “No, we’re not.” Cas glared at him and huffed before storming off into the extra room that Dean used as his workshop.

“Cas! What are you doing?” Dean groaned as he stood up and followed the path of the other man. He could hear his boyfriend moving stuff around in the workshop and picked up his pace, wanting to get there before everything was out of place. Dean entered the room but froze as he saw Cas about to toss a power drill to the side. “Cas!” He lunged for the tool and caught it in his arms, cradled like a baby as Cas continued flipping over boxes and dirty laundry that had been left in there.

“I’m looking for your toolbox. Since you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself.”

“Cas, baby, come on.”

“Shut up, Dean.” Dean sighed and picked up the toolbox from the windowsill and held it up.

“Over here, buddy.” Cas turned around and, seeing the box in Dean’s hands, stormed over. He took the box and strode out of the room. “Cas, come on. Stop messing around. You can’t work your way around a hardware store. Just wait until tomorrow, and I’ll do it, babe. I promise.” Cas spun around with fire in his eyes and pointed a finger into his chest.

“For your information, _Winchester_ , I can do this on my own. I assembled furniture before you came into my life, and if you don’t shut up, I’ll do so _after you leave it_.” The threat carried, because Dean back down but not before muttering a “fuck off” and storming into their bedroom.

Dean showered and grabbed a clean shirt from the laundry hamper. His stomach growled, but he didn’t want to face Cas so he brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, muscles aching from carrying both boxes up the flights of stairs since the elevator decided to break down today. He turned off the light and flipped over onto his back, laying there in the silence.

_BAM! BAM!_ Dean sighed and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Cas!”

“This requires a hammer, Dean!” the voice shouted back from the living room. He groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head as Cas continued hammering the pieces together.

Two hours later, however, he was still awake. His back ached from lying in bed to long without relaxing. Every time the hammer hit its receiver, he was waiting for Cas to start yelling, having hit his thumb or finger instead of metal. Also his stomach hadn’t stopped growling and he now had to pee. He decided to get up and at least get a bowl of cereal in him before nicely asking Cas to hammer quieter.

Dean stepped out of the bedroom and froze.

“Cas? Cas, what did you do to that thing?” Dean didn’t really remember what the desk was supposed to look like, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t… that.

“It’s not finished, Dean.” Dean stepped closer to the monstrosity and winced as he put a finger to it and a piece fell off.

“Dean!” Cas cried, getting to his feet.

“Cas…” Cas’ shoulders slumped and the hammer dropped from his hand. He looked at the ground, defeated.

“It’s too late to turn back now.”

“It’s not too late, Cas. We can fix this.” Dean placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder, but his boyfriend jerked away, gaining a bit of fire again.

“Dean, it’s not broken.”

“No, but it’s not right either.” He pulled the shorter man into his arms and suddenly, he could feel Cas’ body shaking under his. “Oh, baby, it’s okay.” Cas sobbed into his shoulder, gripping Dean’s shirt in his fist.

“You’re such an asshole,” he muttered. Dean nodded and squeezed his boyfriend tighter.

“I know, sweetie. I know, but I’m your asshole, remember?”

Cas nodded against his chest. “I was just so angry at you.” He stepped back and wiped at his eyes. Then he looked over at the work in progress on the ground and started crying harder.

Dean wrapped his lover in his arms again and hummed, swaying back and forth until Cas’ tears stopped. When Cas tried to step away, Dean’s grip tightened and he murmured, “Hey, I’m not done with you yet.” He loosened his grip only enough to pull back and see Cas’ face. He kissed each of Cas’ eyelids and finally forehead.

“I’m sorry I said you couldn’t do it, baby,” he whispered, running one finger under Cas’ right eye to catch a tear. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“You were just tired, Dean. It was my fault for picking the fight.”

“Agree to disagree?” Dean smiled at him and did so until the corners of Cas’ mouth lifted too. “Good. Now I haven’t eaten yet, so how about I make us some eggs and then we’ll see what we can do about this… uh, thing?” Cas punched at his shoulder, and Dean released him, throwing back a laugh.

“Shut up, Dean.” He tried to look hard, but his eyes betrayed him as he looked at his boyfriend with absolute wonder.

“Then after we finish reassembling this, we can take it to the bedroom and have awesome make-up sex.”

“Shut up, Dean.” This time when he said it, he was laughing. Dean swatted his butt before disappearing into the kitchen. They ate their eggs in silence, but their feet curled around each other’s under the table.

Around four in the morning, after their neighbor yelled at them for hammering furniture so late at night, they retired to their bedroom, too exhausted to get it up. Both collapsed on opposite sides of the bed, still over the duvet and only their fingers touching, but when Cas woke up the next morning, he was intertwined with his husband in the most painful, uncomfortable position that he’d ever been in. He felt the soreness in his arms and neck for the next week when he’d sit at his new desk studying.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Dean had delivered the crib with a fresh coat of paint on Christmas morning. He’d woken up at four so that he could get there before Sam and Jess woke. Dean was peeved to learn that they even woke up early on Christmas— “Sam, it’s Christmas for Christ’s sake!”— but he begrudgingly rolled out of bed and pulled on his thickest pair of wool socks that Sam had bought him the year before as a present and had hefted the wooden bed into the back of Bobby’s truck which he had borrowed the night before.

He carried it into the nursery and when it came time to open presents, he led them upstairs and into the small room. Jess cried when she saw it and even Sam got a little teary eyed, and Dean pretended to hate the attention until Mary called out that breakfast was ready.

Now that the holidays were over and he had spent them doing nothing, he had to focus on piecing together a desk for Brother Jim’s furniture store. Mrs. Moseley’s old one had broken when her nephews were roughhousing, and she requested a Dean Winchester special please and thank you.

So Dean found himself in Bobby’s backyard on an early January morning, sawing away at a piece of wood that would serve as the backboard when a familiar car pulled up. A sleepy tousled head stepped out and Dean set the saw on its base before turning to the figure.

“What the hell are you doing awake this early?” Cas was wrapped up in his trench coat and a fuzzy pink pair of knit gloves. “And what the hell are you wearing?” Cas paused momentarily to glance down at his hands, which were wrapped around a steaming container of coffee and shrugged.

“Gabriel’s gift this Christmas,” he explained, voice still rough with morning sleep. He passed over the cardboard cup and shivered. “You need a heavier coat.”

“I’ve got thick skin,” Dean replied taking a sip. The coffee was warm and black and slipped down his throat easily. “And you never answered my question.”

“You mentioned that you’d be here last night. I thought I’d stop by and keep you company.” Cas said it as if it were no big deal that he was awake before eight or that he was standing out in the cold of Bobby’s backyard with Dean Winchester of all people.

“And you just decided to join me?” Dean eyed him suspiciously, and Cas shuffled his feet on the frosted ground. Most of Bobby’s yard was slush this time of year, but Dean had put down a layer of gravel under his workshop so he could still make some sells during the winter season.

“Of course. I had nothing better going on today.”

“Cas, it’s a Sunday.”

“I know that.” Dean shrugged and picked up the saw, handing the cup back to its buyer.

“Well, how are you with a paint brush?” He grinned up at Cas who merely glowered in response and picked up a brush. “The pile that can be painted is over there. Missouri wanted a blue coating. Paints in the shed.” Then Dean was back to work, sawing away at the first shelf. After all the pieces were cut, he sanded them down and added them to Cas’ pile. The other man mixed a green and white together before adding a dash of blue to given the wood a nice teal color just like the old one Missouri had.

At one point, Dean heard Bobby come and check out the owner of the new car, but he didn’t say anything to them and just returned to the warmth of the living room. At eleven, Dean invited Cas inside for a cup of hot chocolate, but the shorter man shifted uncomfortable.

“Look, Cas. You can stand out here freezing until your brain catches up with the rest of you and decides to go home, or you can come inside and have a warm cup of Bobby’s hot chocolate. You know you want some.” Cas did want some. Bobby made such a perfect blend of marshmallow, peppermint, and chocolate that even Gabriel didn’t bother adding syrups and caramels to the drink.

He followed the blond inside and Bobby gave a curt nod from where he was sitting in his study/living room area.  Dean pulled the jug out of the fridge and poured two mugs full before microwaving them.

“Bobby,” Dean called. The two men made eye contact, and Cas knew the exchange was about him. Bobby narrowed his eyes and Dean lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “You remember Cas, here, doncha?”

Bobby glowered even harder if possible. “Well, you were married to the man at one time, so yeah, I do.” Dean stared at him until he added, “How you doin’ boy?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m good.” Cas stared between the two men before adding hesitantly, “How are you?” Bobby snorted.

“Oh, I’m just peachy.” When Cas first met Bobby, he was coming to pick up his car, and the two immediately forgot each other for the time being. The second time was shortly after Cas and Dean had started dating. He’d swung by the auto shop after Sam had gotten out of soccer practice, because the boy had left his notebook in the Impala that morning and needed it to study for his Biology test. Dean had strolled over covered in grease, top half of the overalls tied around his waist. Cas had practically drooled at the sight, and Dean leaned through the silver car’s window to press him into a long kiss.

Sam came back to find his brother still slobbering over his ride home, but he wasn’t the only one that had found them.

“Dean!” the gruff voice had snapped.

The boy had leaned back and drawled out, “What, Bobby?”

“Don’t get that tone with me, boy. I didn’t give you a break. Now why don’t you introduce me to your _boyfriend_ and get back to work.” Dean had rolled his eyes but done as he was asked.

“Cas, Bobby. Bobby, Cas.”

“Pleasure.” Bobby just hmmed at Cas’ pleasantries, but the old man invited him over for a family dinner the next week, so Cas took it to mean that’s just how he was.

Now, Bobby’s eyes were narrowed on Cas’ figure. The man shuffled out of his leather chair and into the kitchen, serving himself a mug of cold hot chocolate. Cas shifted under his hard gaze, and finally, the man huffed and microwaved his drink.

“What are you up to nowadays, son?” Cas sighed in relief and filled him in on the university position and book and paint job on his walls. Bobby asked if he’d be interested in painting the upstairs bathroom some weekend come spring to which Cas hurriedly accepted the offer. There weren’t a lot of opportunities to make things right with Bobby Singer, but Cas knew how to recognize one when it presented itself to him. Dean grimaced and reminded himself to get the date on this future project in case he needed to interfere with Bobby’s interrogation.

They finished their drinks and grabbed a bite to eat. Just as they finished thawing out, Dean and Cas were back into the cold. The paint had thickened from Cas leaving the lid off, so he swished it around with the brush a few times before starting on the backboard. Dean began putting pieces together, and when the backboard dried, he attached it to the rest of the desk. They stayed for another cup of Bobby’s hot chocolate, and then Cas followed Dean back to his apartment.

The floor was still a nest, and Cas took off his coat and shoes before sprawling out. He breathed in the scent of Dean and pulled a pillow over his head, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. He never got up that early. There was a reason all of his classes were in the afternoon, and it wasn’t just because there was no available classroom space. Now he just wanted to curl up under the covers, warm body pressed against his, and fall asleep.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Two hands latched on under his armpits and pulled him up. Cas rose to his feet wearily. “You’re helping me make dinner.”

“Dean, I thought we both agreed that I should stay out of the kitchen.” He followed the blond anyway, stopping to hop up onto the counter where he could lean against the cabinets and swing his feet.

“Cas, you’re thirty. It’s time you learned to make spaghetti.” Cas sighed heavily and Dean rolled his eyes at the drama queen, but the man hopped off the counter to join Dean’s side at the stove.

“So you’re going to add some water to this pot. Don’t fill it all the way, but put enough in so that the noodles will be covered.” Cas did as instructed and brought the pot back to the stove.

“Dean, this is ridiculous. You never let me help with dinner.”

Dean ignored him and handed over the box of noodles. “Cas, this is easy. We’re even just going to use the tomato sauce from the jar. There’s nothing difficult about this.”

Cas dumped the noodles and Dean handed him a metal cookie sheet and a bag of frozen meatballs. “That’s not what I was saying, Dean. I’m just wondering why you’re letting me help _now_ when we were together for four years and not once did you ask for my help.”

“I already told you, Cas. You’re thirty years old. It’s time you learned to make spaghetti.”

“Yes, and I’m sure tomorrow we can go over omelets and the dos and don’ts,” Cas shot back snippily. He laid the meatballs out in a row and put the sheet in the oven, then set the temperature to the right degree.

“Timer,” Dean warned and Cas added ten minutes to the timer on the over. “Now, you want to add some olive oil to the water to keep the noodles from sticking.” Cas glowered at him but did as he said. Dean leaned against the counter, smirk on his lips and handed over a spoon with rounded teeth at the ends. “Now stir with this.”

“I’m not a child, Dean. I know what a spoon is for.”

“This is a pasta spoon, Cas. It grips the noodles better.” Cas sighed and stirred the pasta hastily. Water splashed around the bowl and a hand covered Cas’ on the handle.

“Slowly.” Dean’s stomach pressed into Cas’ back and his breath brushed the hairs on the back of Cas’ neck. “There’s no rush, Cas.” Dean’s hand maneuvered the spoon around the bowl as the noodles became more limp and Cas’ dick became less so. Dean pressed tighter against his back, lips pressed against Cas’ ear, pelvis pushed into his ass, free hand squeezing Cas’ hipbone.

“Dean.”

“Shh.” His breath tickled Cas’ ear and the man shivered against him. Dean tightened his grip on Cas’ waist and their fingers holding onto the spoon, released the plastic object and tangled together.

“This is nice,” he whispered, and Cas nodded. Three minutes later, according to the kitchen timer, Dean stepped back and instructed Cas to dump the noodles into a strainer over the sink. He added the tomato sauce, stirring that in next, and then they waited five more minutes for the meatballs to be done.

They stirred those in with the pasta spoon and then Dean was smiling over at Cas saying, “See? I knew you could make dinner.”

“It’s spaghetti, Dean,” Cas protested, but he didn’t say it too loudly, because he’d made his first meal without burning anything, and he was proud of that. They settled down on the nest of Dean’s living room and flipped through the stations of the TV until landing on an old episode of _The Twilight Zone_. When Cas finished his plate, he was full and tired and content, so he curled up next to Dean’s belly and fell asleep with a calloused hand running through his hair.

 

**Before- Twenty-Three**

Cas had never met John Winchester, and while Dean never really blatantly said anything bad about the man, he’d never really said anything good either. Several times Cas would return to their small apartment at quarter to midnight and find Dean drinking a bottle of whiskey on the balcony. Cas would maneuver the man inside and out of the cold winter air, and Dean would mumble something under his breath about John Winchester and worthiness.

So while Cas had never met the man, he was able to form an idea of what kind of man he was, and Cas did not like him very much.

A few weeks after Dean and Cas’ wedding, Dean had gotten an angry call on his phone. He’d stepped outside to take it, leaving Cas to man the kitchen, which was the first sign that something was wrong. After an hour had gone by, Dean hadn’t returned, and Cas only burned the carrots. He pulled on a sweater before stepping out of their small home, but Dean wasn’t around.

Dean didn’t answer his phone when Cas called, so he took the Impala down to the bar a few blocks down the street when the couple met up with Benny and Victor on Tuesdays for Trivia Night. There Cas found him, tucked into a corner, bottle of whisky almost empty on the table.

Dean didn’t speak if what happened other than mentioning John’s name on the way home, and they never spoke of it again.

Cas straightened his tie and knocked on the bathroom door three times. “Dean, you are ready? It’s time to head to the church.”

Their motel room was small. Sam, Jess, and Mary were staying in the Milligan’s guest room and on their pull out couch. Dean had insisted on the motel room, not wanting to be anywhere his father had once lived. Although he didn’t give this reason, Cas could mostly figure it out for himself and had denied Kate’s request with all the respect and concern that she had shown them, booking instead the cheap room.

Windom, Minnesota was muggy, even for Cas who was used to wearing suits. Dean finally opened the door, and if Cas had been expecting red-rimmed eyes, he was disappointed. Dean pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed the keys to the Impala, his face distant and hard. Cas silently followed him.

The service was nice. Kate and Adam cried. Mary’s eyes teared up and although Cas never saw evidence of Sam’s tears, he did dab at his eyes a couple times. Cas wrapped an arm around his husband, but the man just stiffened and kept his gaze straight forward on the coffin.

The doctors all said John Winchester had had a stroke and died peacefully in his sleep. When Cas relayed the information to Dean, he didn’t comment, just poured a shot and went to bed early. Now the priest mentioned it again, and Dean’s lips twitched.

The ceremony was nice Cas supposed. He hadn’t been to many before, only his grandmother’s when he was eight, and he’d spent the whole time then trying to avoid Gabriel’s pranks. There was a small gathering at Kate’s afterwards. A few of John’s co-workers were there, and Adam retired to his room for the afternoon.

Cas grabbed a plate of cheese cubes, but when Dean didn’t even pick at those, he said their goodbyes to everyone there and drove his husband back to their room. Dean practically ripped off his ties, in such a hurry to get out of his clothes. When he was down to his boxers, he started on Cas’ suit. The man let him undress him until Dean stuck a hand down his boxers and around his limp cock.

“Whoa, Dean, stop!” Cas pulled his hand out and tried to make eye contact with the man before him. Dean studiously avoided his gaze, so Cas pressed to fingers to the underside of his chin and lifted his face.

“Dean, I’m not going to sleep with you if this is about your father.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and he stepped back.

“Fuck off, Cas.” He pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt.

“Dean, stop!” Dean pushed past him and grabbed his room key from the table next to the door, pulling it open. Cas lunged forward and shoved the door closed. “ _Talk_ to me!” Dean had never heard his husband sound so desperate, so broken. Cas’ voice broke, and his breathing was heavy, unable to do anything but watch as his husband leaned closer and growled out, “Move.”

Dean’s eyes were angry, cold. He’d never looked at Cas like that before. Cas stepped back, hand falling to his side.

“Dean, if you walk out of here, don’t come back, do you understand me?” He opened the door and paused, shoulders tense and raised before he released a heavy sigh and walked out.

 

The next morning, Mary picked Cas up for the airport. The Impala was still gone from the parking lot, but Dean hadn’t come back for his bag in the night. Mary dropped Cas off at his apartment and returned to her own home, where she promptly called her eldest son who ignored the calls for a few days.

Cas didn’t see his husband until three weeks after returning home, when Dean wandered into the apartment one night after Cas had gone to bed, but by that point, everything had changed.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

“So what’s this Bobby been telling me about you and Cas?” Dean was perched on the edge of his stool at the bar as Jo dried a shot glass. She glanced up as Sam slid into the seat next to him and continued his inquiry. “I mean, I kind of figured that’s the thing you would tell me about? If you two were back together?”

Dean grimaced. “We’re not together. We’re just friends.” Sam snorted and took the beer Jo handed him.

“So friends just wake up at seven in the morning to paint shelves in the freezing cold? My mistake. It turns out I’ve been doing friendship wrong this whole time.” Jo leaned across the bar.

“He helped you paint shelves? Aw, how romantic,” she teased.

“Shut up, Jo.”

She and Sam smiled deviously at each other, and Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously, guys, nothing is going on.”

“Really, because Bobby said you went into his wine cellar for a 1957 Bordeaux yesterday.”

“It was 1961,” he corrected, then upon realizing his mistake, “Shut up.”

“Dean, you don’t drink wine.”

“Wanted to try a new recipe.”

“Then buy a bottle from the grocery store like normal people do.”

“Look,” he said, turning to face his brother. Jo quickly served a customer and joined them again. “I was already at Bobby’s. It was just more convenient that way.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day and you now have a certain special blue eyed someone back in your life?” Jo leered at him from the other side of the bar, and he glared back while Sam hid his laughter behind his beer.

“It has nothing to do with it,” Dean growled, keeping eye contact as he enunciated every word.

Jo shrugged and nodded. “Okay, so what’s this recipe?”

Sam snorted into his bottle, and choked out, “A slice of Cas pie?”

“A man meat sandwich?”

“A ten inch hero?”

“Ten inches? Let’s just make it a foot long.”

“Meat lovers pizza?”

“Sausage balls?”

“Dirty rice with a side of smoked sausage?”

“Really, guys? Enough with the sausage already,” Dean snapped.

“What’s this about sausage?” Ellen asked, coming out of the store room with a box of whisky. The two _children_ beside Dean burst into laughter, and he narrowed his eyes at Ellen’s confused look.

“Oh, Dean just wants Cas’ sausage. That’s all,” Jo told her mother who looked back at the eldest boy and said, “Oh, Bobby did mention something about that on the phone last night.”

Sam and Jo burst in more laughter, tears streaming down their face, as Dean tossed a few bills onto the counter, grabbed his coat, and cried, “It’s for a recipe!” He could still hear them chortling as he pushed open the door to the outside and stepped into the cold air.

 

As it was, Cas did come over for dinner the next night, although Dean hadn’t realized it would be Valentine’s Day when he originally invited the man over. He knocked on Dean’s door at six sharp, and when he opened the door, Cas was standing there in the blue button down Dean had gotten him for Christmas one year. He was holding a six pack in one hand and a copy of _Young Frankenstein_ under in the other.

“I thought we might try dinner and a movie this time,” he said by way of greeting, stepping into the doorway and handing over the beer. “Since you’re television seems to always make me fall sleep.”

He removed his coat, hanging it over the back of a kitchen chair and stepped up to the plug in grill where Dean was pressing hamburgers. His stomach growled and Dean handed over a glass of red wine.

“Wow, you really went all out I can see.”

“Oh, yeah. Paid a lot for it. Had to go all the way into Bobby’s cellar.”

“Terrifying. He has one?”

“From back when Karen was alive. He never goes down there now,” Dean explained. “I figured someone should get to use it though.”

“Well, it was nice of him to let you bring this. Good year?” Cas examined the label and Dean laughed.

“No fucking clue. I figured you would know.”

“Not a chance in hell, I’m afraid,” the man responded, light blush tinting his checks.

Dean turned to him, mouth dropping open in surprise. “But you always knew the…”

“Dean, I was just trying to impress you. I always asked Gabriel beforehand, and after we were married, I couldn’t exactly admit that I’d been lying to you for two years.”

“Oh, so telling me that you’ve been lying for ten is so much better.”

“You’re right. Forget I ever said anything, and I promise I’ll lie to you until you’re on your deathbed. Then, and only then, will I confess my sins of betrayal.” Dean snorted into his sleeve.

“You can’t take it back now, idiot!” Dean laughed into his elbow and Cas felt a surge of pride at making the man smile. He grinned happily and took a sip of the red liquid, wincing at the dry taste. That set Dean off on another bout of laughter, then the grill was beeping, and their burgers were done.

They kept dinner cheap and used thin strips of sliced cheese that came in a twenty pack. Dean had to get a knife from the drawer and take off the lid of the mustard container to get the remaining condiment out. Cas tapped the end of the ketchup container, and a splat shot out at his blue dress shirt.

“Shit!” He jerked away from the table, and Dean let out a low whistle.

“That’s quite a stain, man. Here, use this.” He tossed him a washcloth and went back to tear strips of lettuce and slicing a tomato. The cloth didn’t help much, just spread the stain and made his shirt wet. Dean winced at the smear and nodded. “Yeah, just go get a shirt from my room, man. I’ll put some stain remover on that and toss it in the wash when my hands are clean.”

Cas disappeared from the kitchen, and Dean finished slicing the tomato. He set the veggies on the table for Cas to grab whatever he wanted on his burger, but Cas still hadn’t returned. He wondered down the hall to his bedroom and peeked inside.

“Cas, what’s— Oh.” Cas’ blue shirt lay on the floor, but in his hands was a thin gray t-shirt of Dean’s, a Led Zeppelin one, the one Cas had worn on their wedding day.

“You still have this?” the man’s voice was shaky, and Cas had to step back and sit down on the bed room a moment.

“Dude that was my favorite shirt. Of course, I kept it.” Cas nodded, and Dean stepped into the room. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

“I just… _you kept it_.” His voice was watery, and Dean knelt down between his thighs.

“Of course, I did. After you left, I didn’t have anything left that smelled like you but this.” He fingered the soft material and wrapped his hands around Cas’ wrists. “I wore it every night to bed after your scent faded from the sheets. Then even it lost the smell of you.” Dean looked down at their hands, intertwining their fingers. “And I had nothing left.”

Cas pulled his hands back, curling them into fists and he bit down on one. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much. I know I messed up, but I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that.” Dean was taken aback by the sudden display of emotion. Cas may have gotten emotional in the past, but he’d never actually cried in front of Dean before. Now the man had tears running down his cheeks.

Dean reached to swipe them away, but Cas jerked back, away from his touch.

“Hey, Cas, it’s okay. I know you’re sorry.” But the other man was shaking his head.

“No, I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I will. I’ll fix this.”

“Cas, it’s okay. Just sit still, will you?” But Cas was up, dropping the shirt and reaching for the blue button down. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Cas hurried for the front door, and Dean had to wrap his hand around his elbow and pull him back.

“Cas, stop! Listen to me.” The man had stopped running away, and Dean took that as a sign that he was listening. “If you want to make this up to me, the first way you can do that is by joining me for dinner.” Cas didn’t say anything, so he added, “Right now?” He released his grip on Cas and took a step back, towards the table. Cas looked conflicted but gave in, following Dean back to the table.

“I’m sorry. I just…” Dean handed him the burger.

“Eat.” Cas did as he was told and didn’t stop for a second to look like he was enjoying doing so. Dean went and got the gray shirt, bringing it back to the table with him. Cas looked pained as the blond man held out his hand, offering it to him. He slid off the button up that he hadn’t quite buttoned up after having his fit, and he pulled the gray one on, stomach muscles stretching taut. Dean’s mouth watered for an entirely different reason than the burgers before them.

“Okay, buddy, here’s the thing,” Dean said once the other man was clothed. “I need you to be honest with me. Okay?” Cas looked guilty but nodded nonetheless. “Good. So what just happened back there?” Cas winced and looked like he’d just eaten something really bad.

“I didn’t realize,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “how much I hurt you when I left.” Dean stared at him in disbelief.

“Cas.” His voice was low and steady. “You were my husband. What did you think would happen?”

“I thought you could move on, stop having to take care of me all the time.” Dean flinched, suddenly not hungry for the rest of the burger that sat in front of him. He pushed his plate back, got up, and grabbed the wine from the counter, swinging back a glug. He winced and returned to the table.

“When I married you,” he sighed into the bottle lip and took another swig before continuing, “I promised to protect you, to take care of you, to love you without sin, without flaws, just unconditional love. I kept that promise.”

“And I didn’t.” Cas pulled the bottle away, taking a slug for himself. “I didn’t protect you. I didn’t take care of you. We had nothing, and you gave everything so effortlessly.” His voice was quiet and if there had been any other sound except for their breathing Dean wouldn’t have even heard Cas whisper, “I gave nothing.”

Cas stood to leave again but Dean was ready this time. He gripped Cas’ arms, forcing the man to face him. “You loved me. I knew before I married you that things would be tight for a while, but I also knew we’d get through that. You did try, Cas, because you loved me unconditionally.”

“Love.”

“Excuse me?” Dean felt relieved. He was getting a response from the man now.

“I still do love you.” Cas said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if it were a fact that was written down in the textbooks, one everyone should know. Dean felt undeserving of the attention and shook his head, hands dropping.

“Cas, don’t say things you don’t mean.” The man titled his tousled head towards him, eyes squinting over at Dean.

“I promised to be honest, Dean.” Dean felt his heart stop in his chest, felt his hands prickling, wanting, desiring the man before him. He felt the moon and the earth stand still for a second, and he surged forward, hands begging for Cas, aching for him. Cas’ mouth dropped open in shock, and Dean pulled him in, lips caressing, tongues teasing.

Cas gripped one hand in his hair, tugging at the blond strands. Dean gripped his hips, his back, his shoulders, pulling them tighter, closer together. He yanked at the gray shirt, lifting it up and over Cas’ shoulders. Then nimble fingers were unbuttoning his own shirt and a moment later the red button up and sliding down his arms. Cas growled at the shirt underneath it.

“Why do you wear so many layers?” He threw the red dress shirt behind him and pulled at the bottom of the loose t-shirt that was left on Dean. Once that was gone, the blond man was back on his lips, biting and bruising while walking him backwards and into the bedroom.

He tugged on Cas’ jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. Cas’ knees hit the back of the bed, and he tumbled backwards, sinking down into the soft mattress.

At his amazed look, Dean explained, “Memory foam. It remembers me.” Cas rolled his eyes and pulled the man down on top of him. Dean placed a knee on each side of him and rolled down, both of them letting out a groan at the friction.

“Jeans, get them off.” Dean sat up as Cas unbuttoned his pants, and then Dean rolled over and lifted his hips, sliding them down as he did so. Cas took this opportunity to roll on top of him, pinning him to the mattress and then leaned down, pressing kisses into his neck.

“Cas, please.” The man beneath him moaned with want, so Cas obliged, slipping his hand past the waistband of Dean’s boxers and wrapping around his delicious cock. He bucked into Cas’ fist and wrapped an arm around his neck, keeping their faces close. “Need you, baby. Needed you for so long,” he panted out. Cas squirmed above him, wanting some friction of his own, so Dean slid  his other hand down the man’s firm torso and gripped him hard.

“Ah!” Cas cried out, head falling to Dean’s chest. He was working Dean too fast, too hard. He was going to come early if he didn’t stop. Dean pushed him back and leaned across the bed towards the table, pulling open a drawer and shuffling around until his fingers hit the familiar container. Cas pulled Dean’s boxers down, exposing his ass and licked a thin stripe across his hole.

Dean fell onto his elbows, lube still gripped tight in his hand, and arched his back as Cas hungrily nipped and sucked at his hole, spreading his cheeks. Dean spread his legs and handed back the bottle which Cas took eagerly.

His tongue circled the ring of muscle and dove in. Dean cried out before him, hands reaching towards the edge of the mattress for purchase. Cas lifted him, tugging the boxers off the rest of the way, and spread Dean wide, lapping at his hole as if he hadn’t had eaten in three days. His beard tickled Dean’s thighs, and Dean’s stomach tightened at the thought of beard burn being there for days afterwards.

The bottle made a popping noise and a moment later, a cold finger was joining Cas’ tongue. Dean’s head dropped to the mattress, sweat dripping from his brow and landing on the blue sheets beneath him.

“Cas, please. Need more.” The man hmmed against his hole and Dean moaned in pleasure. Cas pulled back, keeping his finger pumping in and out of Dean before crooking it a certain way. The man beneath him jerked forward with a loud shout, and Cas smiled down at the beautiful backside presented to him.

He wrapped a hand around himself and added a finger to Dean. The blond man tried to sit up, and Cas gave his ass a quick smack. Dean’s head hit the mattress again and another groan drawled out of him. By the time he was ready for a third, Dean’s cock hung heavy between his legs, drooling onto the mattress and his body was boneless at Cas’ hands. Dean could only moan as Cas pressed into all the right spots.

When he was ready, Cas lined his cock up with Dean’s hole, pressing into his perineum first before gently pushing into the anus. Dean’s back arched long and far beneath him, and Cas placed his hand upon it, pushing it even further down, spreading Dean even wider as he entered him.

Once fully seated, he slowly pulled back and pushed in again. Dean whimpered, hands reaching back to spread his cheeks wider as Cas thrust in and out. He set a steady rhythm and Dean’s fingers tightened in the sheets.

“Dean, give me your hands,” Cas commanded. The blond man stretched further, toes crinkling, so Cas thrust harder and pressed his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, pushing his face into the mattress. “Hands, Dean.” He held his arms back, collarbone completely flat to the mattress now, and Cas clenched Dean’s wrist together in one hand, pressing it against his lower spine. The man beneath him looked so beautiful, spread open for Castiel and no one else. Hands defenseless in Cas’ grip, face pressed into the mattress.

At one particular thrust, Dean jerked up, neck thrown back in pleasure and Cas took the opportunity to slip his hand around the neck and pull up. Dean went with him easily until Cas’ front pressed against Dean’s back. He let go of his grip on Dean’s wrist and reached around him instead, pumping his cock.

One of Dean’s free hands reached up and gripped Cas’ hair. Cas groaned against Dean’s ear and sucked bruises into his neck.

“Shit, Dean. So beautiful. Mine, all mine.” Words blubbered from Cas mouth without him knowing, and Dean dropped his head back, baring his throat. Cas scratched his teeth along the newly exposed skin and Dean whimpered in his arms.

“Yours, Cas. All yours. Only yours. Need you, baby. Need— Guh!” Cas lifted Dean’s thighs from the mattress, still pounding into him. Dean’s muscles burned at the stretch. He’d feel sore in his legs for days after this.

Cas dropped him back to the mattress and pulled out long enough to flip him onto his back. Then he repositioned himself and pushed in. Sweat dripped down his back. His thighs quivered, stomach muscles tight, begging for the release it so longed for. Three more thrust and Dean was tightening around him, bucking as cum shot out onto his stomach. Cas pumped harder and bucked faster, then his muscles tightened up, and—

He threw his head back and cried out as he came, hips slamming forward at a painful pace. Dean lay boneless, a sprawled out hole for Cas to fuck into. Cas fell to the side, Dean only making a soft moaning noise when he was able to find his voice. He lay there, chest heaving, heart racing, trying to catch up with what they’d just done. Cum dried on Dean’s chest and Cas wanted to go get a washcloth or a dirty shirt, wanted to clean it up for him, to prove that he could take care of the man, but his body was so weak. He stayed still, uncomfortable with his arm under him the way it was, but too tired to move.

“Shit,” Dean muttered finally, after the silence had gotten the best of them. “Shit, shit, and double shit.” Cas’ eyes had been felling closed, ready for a deep sleep when Dean had spoken. Now he slowly got to his elbow and stared down at the gorgeous wreck of a man.

“That doesn’t sound too good,” he remarked, nerves settling into his stomach. Dean looked up at him and shrugged.

“It’s not exactly supposed to go that way, Cas.”

“Dean, I know it’s been a while but I’m pretty sure not _that_ much has changed.” Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

“No, you idiot. I mean, we were supposed to sleep with each other first.”

“We did last time,” Cas pointed out.

“And look where that got us.”

“Dean, I hardly think our first time having intercourse is what led to our divorce,” he told the man, dryly. Then as a second thought, “Although it very well could have led to our marriage.” He grinned down at Dean who stared at him unamused.

“I told myself this wouldn’t happen,” he explained, solemnly. Oh. Cas slid back down to his side, arm above him this time, and leaned his head on Dean’s chest. He ran a hand through the cum on Dean’s stomach and pressed a kiss to his breastbone.

“I know,” he admitted. Dean looked down at him. “I told myself the same thing.” Cas cleared his throat and spread his hand flat on Dean’s chest. “I told myself that I’d do it right this time, that I’d take you on a date, that I wouldn’t push anything you didn’t want. I told myself that if you wanted me to leave, to stop talking to you, that I would do so, that I would walk out that door and never come back, because that’s what you wanted.”

“Cas…” A hand trailed slowly up his back and through his hair, finger brushing the skin behind his ear. Cas traced little stars on Dean’s skin, shame of what they’d done pressing down on him.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Hey, now.” The body beneath him pulled away and rolled over. Cas found himself on his back with a lapful of Dean Winchester baring down on him. “I don’t need any of that right now, mister. I was able and willing just as much as you were, so if you’re sorry, then I’m sorry, and I’m not sorry. Got it?”

Cas nodded and Dean’s gaze softened as he stared down at his lover. “This isn’t your fault, Cas. I’m the one that brought the expensive bottle of wine and made your favorite meal on Valentine’s Day. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. So don’t blame yourself, okay?” Cas felt his chest tighten in anger at this man taking all the blame.

“I wore the shirt you bought me for our second Christmas together. You always said that it brought out my eyes, so I wore it here tonight hoping you’d want to do this again. Some other time,” Cas blurted. Dean tilted his head to the side and stared down at the man, tired smile gracing his features.

“So you’re saying we’re both a couple of dumbasses?”

“I prefer the word trusting,” Cas said. “Less dumb. Less ass.” Dean surged forward and kissed him, cum smearing onto both of their chests. Cas gripped him tight, opening his mouth for him. Dean pulled back too soon, shaking his head.

“If we’re going to do this right, we have to set some limit do you understand?” Cas nodded eagerly, so he continued “Okay, first rule, no sex?”

“What?” Cas shot up, almost toppling Dean over. “But we already broke that rule. That’s a shitty way to start something.”

“No more sex besides tonight.” Cas looked unsure but nodded anyway. “Second, we have got to be honest with each other. I can’t do this if you’re going to be having doubts again, Cas. I need to know those things, so that we can talk about them. _Together_.”

Cas conceded. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Okay, well, good then.”

“That’s all you’ve got? Two rules?”

“That’s all I could think of right now!” Dean protested. “You try creating some off the top of your head.”

“Okay.” Cas ticked off his fingers as he said, “No canceling last minute on dates unless an emergency or unknown engagement has occurred. No coming over just to use each other’s washing machine—”

“That’s dumb,” Dean interrupted, but at Cas’ deadpan expression, he quieted and agreed.

“No sleeping with other people. This is a truly inclusive relationship. No buy lite beers. No filling up the TiVo with trashy Reality TV shows. No waking me up before six, even if it is with a blow job.” Dean went to interrupt again, but Cas cut him off with a sharp gaze. “My dick will still be there after you get off work. You can wait until then.”

“Fine, I accept the terms and conditions of dating you,” Dean groaned, trying to look annoyed, but smiling much too wide to do so. Cas dropped his hands to Dean’s thighs, giving them a playful squeeze before grinning up at him wickedly.

“So in rule number one, you technically said, ‘No sex _besides_ tonight’…” Cas trailed off, and Dean fell forward, rolling his hips down, getting hard again already.

“Oh?” he whispered into Cas ear. “I know.” He leaned down to kiss Cas but froze halfway, eyes wide and groaned, “Shit, I’m going to have to see Gabriel again.”

 

**Before- Twenty-One**

“Dean this is Gabriel, my hyperactive, obnoxious older brother,” Cas introduced.

“I prefer entrepreneur, sexy, talented, successful, smart,” Gabriel leaned towards two college girls who were checking out at the register and winked at them, “ _Single_.” The girls laughed and Alfie hurried to ring their candy up.

“I forgot to mention pigheaded,” Cas told Dean who bit back a laugh as Gabriel narrowed his eyes at his brother.

“Ungrateful,” he muttered before getting to his tiptoes and tossing an arm around Dean’s shoulders.

“Deano! I’ve heard so much about you. Let me ask. What’s your favorite candy?” Dean shifted awkwardly and said the first thing that came to mind.

“Uh, M&Ms?” Gabriel looked to his brother in disappointment.

“You’re dating a commoner?” Then he turned back to the taller man. “Well, Deano, the correct answer was all of them, but thanks for trying. My little brother here can show you to the door where you can leave and find regular candy at the nearest drug store.” Gabriel left the couple in the center of the room and went back to assorting colorful lollipops into a display that painted a sun setting over a horizon. Dean looked to Cas uncertainly, nerves evident in his eyes, even as he’d spent all morning telling Cas he wasn’t worried about making his brother like him.

Cas took pity on the man and turned to his brother’s backside. “Gabriel!” His voice was low and serious. Dean momentarily imagined himself pinned to the mattress as Cas leaned closer to his ear to use that voice and say—

“You promised us lunch, and you’re going to deliver!” Cas pulled his brother back to their side. The shorter man floundered behind him for a moment, before removing Cas’ hand from his arm.

“Fine. I’ll take you to lunch.” He dropped the remaining lollipops into an empty tub and motioned to Alfie that he was stepping out for a while. Alfie looked desperate from behind the counter, as he pleaded with a customer who was complaining about the price of chocolate these days. A line had formed around the counter, and Gabe hurriedly pushed his brother and the new boyfriend outside.

“Uh, should you leave him during a rush?” Dean questioned, but Gabe looked at him like he was a fish that could be squished if he stepped hard enough, and Dean shut up.

“Well, I can’t very well take him with me, now can I?” the bronze haired man responded smugly, smirking at the blond man’s nerves. Cas elbowed him and shot him a look reminding him that he did promise to stay on his best behavior. Gabriel sighed and started walking to the deli across the street.

“So Dean, Cas says you’re a mechanic. What’s that like?” Gabriel may have promised to play nice, but that didn’t mean he had to be interested in Cas’ new boy toy’s life. He sighed dramatically as Dean gave a mundane response and the trio entered the shop.

 

Gabriel collapsed on Cas’ couch at the end of the day, too tired to leave for his own apartment which would have been much closer but less interesting than the complaint he was about to address.

“But Cassie, he’s so _boring_ ,” he whined, hand thrown over his forehead. Cas brought a glass of water in from the kitchen and handed it over.

“He was nervous, Gabe. And you weren’t exactly giving him any reasons not to be.” His little brother sat down on the opposite end of the couch, moving Gabe’s feet onto his lap.

“I was performing my duties as the older brother.”

“That is not what I asked of you!” Cas hadn’t ever yelled seriously at his brother. He’d spoken in low annoyed tones, but never had he actually raised his voice. Gabriel sat up and stared at the younger boy.

“What? You don’t actually _like_ him, do you?”

“Yes, Gabriel. I do. Very much in fact.”

“Holy shit.”

“And if you hadn’t brought Kali over today and started fucking her mouth practically, Dean would be here right now instead of you,” Cas accused, which may have very well  been a true allegation, but Gabriel didn’t think it needed to be spoken necessarily.

“First of all, I don’t bring Kali anywhere. She goes wherever she wants. That’s how relationships work. If you hadn’t dragged your boy toy down to my shop—”

“ _Boyfriend_ , Gabriel. He’s my _boyfriend_ , not boy toy, not fuck buddy, my _boyfriend_.” Cas ran a hand through his hand hair angrily, as Gab stared on.

“If you hadn’t dragged your,” he choked on the word, “boyfriend down to my shop today, you would have clearly seen that he didn’t want to be there. _Second_ , Kali was delivering our food and just decided to give me a kiss.”

“More like mouth to mouth,” his younger brother grumbled, but the anger seemed to have faded at Gabriel’s point. His shoulder deflated, and he leaned back into the couch.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel.”

“Yeah, well, me too. I didn’t exactly welcome Dean into our family with open arms.” Cas snorted and his brother kicked him as a response. “Shut up. It’s not like Anna welcomed him either.”

“Anna swooned and asked if he was single,” Cas replied.

“Really?”

“Yeah, as he was standing in my kitchen in his underwear.” Gabriel threw his head back in laughter.

“Oh, I am so gonna hold that one over her head next time she wants to do a sit down brunch.”

“You should at least try to go to those,” Cas scolded, quite hypocritically since he hadn’t been to one either. But he was a student. He wasn’t supposed to be awake before noon. Gabriel on the other had was a thirty year old store owner with lots of time on his hand. It was about time he started to wake with the sun. He told Gabriel as much and the older brother burst into laughter so hard tears were streaming down his face.

“Yeah, Cassie. Sure, you just wait until you’re thirty and see how much you like waking before lunch.” Cas rolled his eyes as Gabe slapped his knee still laughing.

“Yeah, okay.”

 

The second time Gabe and Dean met, the fun sized man was much more polite. He took them someplace he didn’t get a discount price for dating the waitress and even paid for both of their meals. He mentioned some boyband from the late nineties that he had hated when he was in college and he and Dean spent the next hour and a half discussing shitty music (most of which Cas liked) and shitty trends (all of which Cas liked) and which dildos were the most satisfying in the art of prostate stimulation (two of which Cas owned and made noted to try on Dean later that night).

And at the end of the meal, Gabe patted Dean on the back in goodbye and left a kick me post it note which Cas immediately removed and crumpled in his hand. His brother smiled, and Cas recognized that as his way of welcoming Dean to the family. He groaned, realizing his mistake in introducing his boyfriend after the fact. He should have taken Dean and moved to Alaska while he still could. Now Gabriel would torture the new boy until he left Cas, running for the hills.

But when Gabriel turned to the door and left, Cas noticed the post it note on the back of his brother’s shirt and Dean’s smug grin, and he buried his laughter in Dean’s neck until his brother was out of range. Maybe it would take a little more than Gabriel to make Dean go running for the hills.

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Dean appeared outside of Cas’ apartment at nine o’clock one cool Saturday morning. Cas opened the door, still wearing the pink bunny slippers Gabriel had bought him as a joke one Christmas. They’d been quite comfy, but once Gabe realized this fact, Cas had to hide them whenever his brother came over.

Cas let Dean into the apartment with a long kiss and his ex-husband handed him a cup of coffee in exchange.

“This _was_ your idea, just so you know. _You_ volunteered to help with the walls,” Dean told him when he grumbled a good morning. It was true. Cas had offered his hand in the painting of little figures in the nursery.

“I suggested wallpaper, but you said, ‘No, Dean. Let me come over and I’ll do little princesses or fairies’.” Dean’s voice sounded more like his fifth grade teacher who was a woman than Cas, and Cas took this opportunity to glare at him over the coffee cup until Dean shuffled back a few steps and pointed at the couch. “I’m just going to sit over there until you get dressed.”

Cas pulled on a pair of jeans he’d had so long that him and Dean had probably been married when he’d gotten them. He didn’t have any dirty or torn shirts so he just pulled on a white undershirt and a leather jacket. It was March, and even though he’d lived in Kansas all his life, he still couldn’t tell if the jacket would be necessary or not. When he stepped back into the living room, Dean glanced up at him and breathed in deeply for a moment.

“Jesus, Cas. You don’t have anything a little… looser?” Dean’s gaze ran down his chest. Cas felt his cheeks warm and fiddled with the sleeve of the jacket. Since the sex was off the table currently, their dates had been mostly spent curled in front of the TV after a home cooked meal or a drink at Ellen’s. Dean had kept his kisses PG and had kept his hands even more so, which was driving Cas insane with want. Still, he appreciated the effort Dean was putting into their relationship, and the least he could do was respect that, so he looked at Dean, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Should I change or…?”

“Hell no. I mean your pecks alone could rival Chris Evans.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Dean. Nobody’s pecks could do that.” Dean nodded as if he’d made a fair point and stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“True. Well, are we ready to go? I got the shelves and some paint for you waiting in Baby, but you might want to bring some of your smaller brushes or something.” Cas held up the bag in his hand which contained the brushes and equipment that he’d need. “Alright then. Let’s head out.” Dean held open the door until Cas walked through it, like he used to do when they were married and waited as Cas locked up. He placed his hand on the small of his back as he opened the door of the Impala for him.

 

Jess was working a shift at the hospital, and Sam was spending another Saturday sucking up to Dorothy Baum at the office. When Cas and Dean arrived, Mary was sitting by the window, working on a light blue baby blanket. She looked up at Dean and moved the knitting yarn to the side to stand and kiss her son. Cas moved behind him, and halfway up from her seat, she froze. Then she continued along as if nothing had happened and pulled Dean into a hug.

“Hey, sweetie. I didn’t realize you were coming by today.” As she released Dean, she pulled Cas into her arms. The man went willingly and fell into her embrace. It had been so long since he’d seen her, and he missed her hugs.

“Yeah, Mom. Cas promised me he would work on the nursery wall to make up for the divorce.”

“Dean.” Cas eyed him and Dean shrugged. “What? Bad joke? Too soon?” He grinned impishly, and Cas rolled his eyes before turning back to Mary.

“Hello, Mary.”

“Hi, honey.” Cas smiled at the nickname, but Mary still felt a little too shocked to smile back at him. “What were you thinking of adding to the wall?”

“Well, I painted my walls recently and had some green leftover that I thought might look good with the shade Dean chose. He brought some white and brown that he had left from the crib, and I thought a tree might be nice. Maybe a mural or just smaller figures along the trim.”

“How do you know the green will go with the yellow that Dean chose?” Mary asked, trying to sound nonchalant. She looked at her son who was standing by the fridge, pulling two beers from the upper shelf.

Cas shuffled his feet, realizing his mistake and glanced at Dean’s back. “Oh, I, uh…”

“Cas helped me pick it out, Mom,” Dean replied, finally turning around and meeting Mary’s gaze. Her eyes widened at his indignant tone, and he corrected himself quickly. “I mean, Cas was there picking out a color for his wall, and I couldn’t decide…” He let his voice trail off, but her gaze was still on him. “So I asked for his opinion.”

“Hmm. Of course,” Mary responded. “That would have been the logical thing to do.”

“So we’ll be upstairs.” Dean returned to Cas’ side and pulled him out of the room. “I brought beef for Salisbury steaks tonight,” he called as they thumped up the stairs like they were still twenty years old. Mary stared at the empty doorway for a moment before reaching over and pinching her arm.

“Ow.”

 

Cas did in fact paint fairies on the wall. Dean had been joking, but to spite him, Cad had used the white paint to create little balls of light. Then he mixed the white and brown to create little tan figures with green dresses.

“Togas, Dean. They’re wearing togas, not dresses.”

“They’re fairies, dude. Not Romans. Those are totally dresses.”

“Dean, I may teach art history to uninterested students who just need the credit, but I also teach religious history to students who dedicate their lives to preserving history. These are definitely togas.”

“Defensive much?”

“I didn’t go through four years of grad school just to have my art misinterpreted, Dean.” He glared over his shoulder at Dean, who was supposed to be setting up the shelves he had made for the baby  stuff to go on but had often found himself staring at Cas’ ass instead. Seriously, he was almost positive that those were the jeans that Cas had worn to their shotgun wedding in California. This little fact also meant that they were the jeans that Dean had yanked from Cas’ thighs thirty minutes after their vows were said and done and right before being fucked into the motel mattress.

“This is a wall, Cas. Not art.”

“Michelangelo painted a ceiling, and that’s art. Besides, you still listen to Zeppelin. What do you know about art?”

“Why the hell did I marry you?”

“My great ass,” Cas replied, smirking at him like he knew where Dean had been looking for the last hour. Dean shrugged but averted his eyes in embarrassment.

“Well, can you blame a guy?”

“I don’t blame you at all for marrying me, Dean. For picking me up at a dive bar, drunk out of your mind and taking me back to your place where you were too drunk to even find the hole at first, yeah, maybe. But marrying me? Not at all.”

“Ellen’s isn’t a _dive_ bar, and I thought you were too drunk to remember that?” Dean asked aghast.

“Oh, honey.” Cas looked at him pitifully. “I couldn’t damage your pride back then. You were so insecure.”

“Insecure? I’ll show you insecure.” Before Cas could turn around, two arms were wrapped around his waist and he was being tackle to the floor. Cas was going to scold him for knocking him over when he had a paintbrush in his hands, but then Dean’s hands were under his shirt tickling him and Cas released a small yelp, squirming to get away.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Dean said, pulling him back under him and holding down Cas’ wrists with his left arm as his right hand went back under the shirt.

“I give. I’m sorry,” Cas cried, jerking around underneath his body. “White flag. I surrender. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Say that you have wet dreams about President Nixon in your grandmother’s lingerie.” Cas froze and stared up at him. “Yeah, you’re right. That was weird. Admit that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

“Dean!”

“Hey, buddy. I can do this all day.” Cas jerked his hips upward and two very important parts of their body connected for a moment. Dean’s eyes widened and his fingers faltered for a moment.

“You’re the best sex I’ve ever had, Dean,” Cas bit out. “Now stop tickling ME!” He screeched, voice hitting a pitch that Dean didn’t even know Cas could reach. Dean’s hand drifted to his left side.

“Come on, Cas. You can do better than that. Convince me.”

“God, Dean. You’re such a dick.” Dean poked at his side harder, and Cas pulled an arm free, wrapping it around Dean’s neck, pulling him closer. His voice was dangerously low as he whispered, “You, Dean Winchester, are by far the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. You used to pound my ass so hard, I’d feel you for a week. Before we moved in together, I’d have to shove a dildo up my ass every day that I hadn’t seen you just so I could fall asleep at night. I had a whole box of them that were sized just like you, some bigger, and still it was nothing compared to the real thing.” Dean was frozen above him. His hand had stopped moving. He could feel Cas’ breath kiss his lips, and he had grown incredibly hard in his pants.

“ _Jesus_ , _Cas_ ,” he groaned, sounding absolutely wrecked. Cas released his neck and fell back to the ground, slowly losing the red in his face that had gathered while Dean tickled him.

“Will you let me go now?” He nodded but didn’t remove his hands. He could feel Cas’ chest heaving beneath him, and he tightened his grip around the man’s waist but let go of the hand that held his arm down. He ran that hand down Cas’ cheek. His ex-husband arched into his touch and their chest brushed against each other’s. He slid his arm under Cas and lowered his head so that their eyes were only inches apart.

“You know, I thought you were pretty good too,” Dean whispered, voice husky and lustful.

“Of course, I was, Dean. I did yoga.” His hips lowered, weighing down on Cas’.

“Are we really about to do this?” Dean searched his eyes for any sign of regret but found none.

“It looks like it.”

“Is that wise?”

“Probably not.”

“Cas.”

“I know.” He sighed wearily and pushed Dean away, sitting up on his elbows. They moved apart, legs tangling and Dean’s balls getting “accidentally” kneed for a moment to which his boyfriend replied, “Don’t even think you didn’t deserve that one.”

 

Cas was still there when Sam and Jess got home, and Dean figure by that point the whole family was freaked out so he might as well enjoy himself before he had to drop Cas off and get bombarded by a hundred texts from Sam asking what the hell just happened.

Cas helped Dean in the kitchen, and by helped, Cas actually got to cook something even though it was only the mashed potatoes. Dean trusted Cas enough to let him pull out the potatoes, skin them, chop them into smaller cubes, and boil them, but not enough to let him let him help with the Salisbury steaks. Cas was okay with that, considering the meal he had made for dinner the night before had been a salad, and even then, he’d somehow managed to buy all wilted lettuce and overripe tomatoes. Hannah had called for Chinese instead, and Cas had to remind himself that learning to cook was a slow process, one that typically involved Dean as the teacher.

Tonight, however, Cas’ small touch did not ruin the mashed potatoes— Dean even asked him add butter and salt at the end— and everyone complimented him on the food. Cas protested, insisting Dean had done all the really work, but then Dean kicked him under the table and he shut up. Their feet stayed tangled together through the rest of dinner, and if Cas lost a shoe at some point and caressed Dean’s shin with his toes, well, none were the wiser.

Mary kissed them both goodbye and Sam hugged Cas telling him it was nice to see him again, before they made it out to the car. It was nearly midnight, and Cas had hoped to get some grading done today. His senior’s had just turned in a paper on religious bases in white supremacy groups. He’d promised to give them their papers back by next Friday, but he’d wanted to start today.

He leaned against the leather of the Impala and held out his hand for Dean’s. Dean started the car up and then reached over to grip his.

“Thanks for doing this today, Cas.” Cas nodded, eyes closing as the car roared to life beneath him. The rumbling comfort felt like home and he wanted to stay in here while Dean drove them to some distant destination. They wouldn’t know where they were going, but they’d know once they arrived that it was where they were meant to be. Cas squeezed his hand tighter and rolled his head to the side, looking at the other man. Dean smiled under the attentive gaze, and glanced over.

“Like what you see?” he leered. Cas ignored him and said, “We should go driving some weekend.” Dean looked taken aback for a moment but caught smiled at the idea nonetheless.

“It might take more than a weekend to get anywhere interesting.”

“Don’t lie, Dean Winchester,” Cas drawled out sleepily. “We used to leave Friday evening and find a road side stand selling honey or a car show by sunup. There’s things happening all around us. It’s our responsibility to find them ourselves.”

“The only reason we stopped for honey was so I could lick it off of you, and clearly that wasn’t a good idea.”

“I told you too much would make you sick.”

“And I told you it would make you sticky,” Dean added. Cas smirked at the memory.

“Yeah, but that isn’t what stopped you from riding me all night like you’d promised. The fact that you were throwing up honey on the other hand…”

“Shut up.” Dean unwrapped his hand to poke the man in his side. Cas jumped and gripped his sides to protect them from the tickling in case a second attack was in the works.

The sat in silence watching the streetlights pass them by. Cas scooted over and laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s hand wound up squeezing Cas’ thigh. _This is nice_ , Cas thought, running his fingers up Dean’s arm hair. _I miss this_.

“We could go after the semester’s done,” he told him.

“What? When it’s hot as hell, and I have to do all the driving because the heat is giving you headaches? I don’t think so. How about this? We can go next semester when your classes are on Spring Break. They still do that, right?” Cas turned his head. His nose bumped Dean’s cheek.

“I’d like that,” he whispered. His breath tickled Dean’s ear and the man felt goosebumps rising along his neck.

“Cas…” Dean pulled into the parking lot outside of Cas’ building and put the car in park.

“Come inside.”

“You know I shouldn’t.” Cas slid a hand up Dean’s thigh and squeezed. Dean’s head fell back against the seat, and he groaned.

“Cas, we can’t do this until we talk some stuff out.”

“We did talk,” the other man argued, taking his hand back. “We always talk. It’s not like we’re just banging some gongs for the hell of it. What more needs to be said?”

Dean removed Cas’ hand from his thigh and put it back into Cas’ space. “I don’t want to get into this without knowing what your plans are this time. We agreed that we’re dating, but where is this going?”

“Clearly, not to the bedroom,” Cas remarked snidely, annoyed at having been put out. Dean glared at him so he uncrossed his arms and sat.

“Do you want the possibility of marriage again someday?” he continued. “Do you see kids in your future? I need to know some things before we decide to be together.” Cas had pulled away from him and was staring out the window.

“Do you think I just want you for sex, Dean? Is that what you think I’m doing here?”

“I honestly don’t know why you’re here, Cas,” Dean admitted. “I don’t see how I’ve changed enough for you to want back in. I don’t know if I should _let you_ back in. So tell me, why should I trust you?”

“You didn’t have to change, Dean, for me to want you,” Cas told him earnestly. “I’ve always loved you for who you are. That’s never changed.” He the back of his knuckles behind Dean’s ear. “I did what I did, because I was hurting at the time and being there wasn’t making it better. I was angry and tired constantly, and so were you. We needed a break from each other.”

Cas swallowed and sat back on his side of the car. “I thought for the longest time that divorce was the right thing. I thought that of course we loved each other. That never stopped, but I didn’t want to hate you. If I had stayed there any longer…”  He shifted and stared at the streetlight ahead of them.

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I was angry with you and I was scared.”

“Cas…”

“Not scared of you but that you didn’t love me anymore.”

“Cas, baby, I never stopped—”

“I know,” Cas snapped out. “I know that now…  Now that things are good and we’re talking again. But when we were fighting, all those long nights and cold shoulders, I couldn’t _do_ that anymore, Dean. Sooner or later, you would have left. Don’t deny it!” Dean shut his mouth, shoving back the protests that were stinging his tongue.

“You would go out with Benny and Victor or just by yourself. I know what you were doing. I know you wouldn’t have gone through with it under normal circumstances, but let’s face it, Dean. One really bad fight and what was to stop you from running into someone else’s arms, to someone else’s bed. I wasn’t going to just wait around for that.”

“I never would have done that,” Dean argued back.

“Dean—”

“No, you idiot. Just listen or a second, okay? I _never_ would have done that. I mean, yeah, sometimes I’d check out another guy or girl or something, but don’t act like you didn’t do the same thing every time Professor Douche came to give speeches on the Crusades or whatever.”

“Crowley and I had nothing going on, Dean,” Cas protested. “And he didn’t give speeches on the Crusades. He theorized Dante’s _Inferno_ as well as other works analyzing man’s morality and hell.” Dean eyed him, and Cas nodded at him to continue.

“I know that. It doesn’t mean that you didn’t eye him like a dog staring at a steak.” Cas snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fine, then like Gabriel in the candy aisle.” Cas consented to that analogy with a shrug and picked at his nail. “And that’s okay. I knew that at the end of the day, I was the one you were going to take home. I never meant to make you feel any differently.” A pause. “Cas, look at me.” He kept his gaze on his nail, but Dean didn’t continue, so finally he looked up at the other man.

“I’m not saying I wouldn’t jerk it to a Swazye flick when you spent the night at Anna’s, because I totally did. All the time. But I never would actually bring home someone else. Never. No matter how angry I was with your dumb ass.”

“You say that now but you never know…”

“You didn’t trust me.” It was a statement, a fact that Dean was suddenly realizing after all this time. He felt guilt and sadness down in the deepest parts of his bones. His gut twisted as he realized all those times he’d stumbled in drunk, Cas believed him to be out looking for someone else, not dealing with his own personal bullshit.

“Jesus, Cas.”

“I’m sorry.” The man seemed humbled now, ashamed of his past self. Dean punched the steering wheel, accidently hitting the horn and scaring a kissing couple who had been walking by. “I just… you know what my mother said.”

“Your mother was a bitch, Cas.”

“Dean!”

“She kicked you out. She stopped paying for your education, your apartment. She took back your grandmother’s desk and the cheap mugs that she bought you. She emptied out your home of almost everything, because you told her that you liked men. What she believed didn’t matter.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that my family didn’t wholly support my choice in partners like yours did, Dean,” Cas yelled back, sitting up in his seat and glaring at the man across from him. “And I’m sorry if I really cared about them and their opinion even though I spent years afterwards trying to forget it. I’m sorry that my experience hurt me, Dean. I’m sorry that I let my mother’s words get under my skin when so many of her other warnings were so close to the truth.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Dean. You didn’t exactly bring home a lot of bacon.”

“You knew we weren’t going to be living in the suburbs when you married me.”

“You were never home and when you were, you were always tired.”

“Because I was picking up extra shifts.”

“You didn’t _need_ to.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that you had a job that paid for the utilities not to mention that your grad school was paid off. My mistake.”

“See? I knew that letting you help pay would become a burden later on down the road.” Cas laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. “I knew you’d hold it against me someday.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Cas. What’s mine is yours. I told you that. That’s what I meant when I married you, and I never regretted it. I wanted you to get an education.”

“Just at a cheaper price, right? Or with a degree that would get me somewhere?”

“I wanted you to be happy doing whatever you decided to do. And you have gotten somewhere.”

“We didn’t even have that much in common, Dean!”

“We loved each other, you asshole! We had that in common!”

“I didn’t want to hold you back, Dean! Okay? I was holding you back, and I couldn’t let myself be the reason that you threw away your life!”

“No, you were selfish and didn’t think about what I wanted at all! You just listened to your mother like a good little bitch and ran along when she needed you! You think I don’t know who paid for your education when you left me? You think I was too dumb to realize who your only option was?”

Cas was sobbing into his hands, stressed and angry and tired of having the same old fight over and over again. They had run themselves into a complete circle, and he felt like he had the night he’d finally had enough and walked away.

There was a knock on the window behind Dean. A bright light shined into the car momentarily blinding Cas. The two breathed heavily. The light disappeared and the knocking sounded again. Dean sighed and turned to roll down his window.

“Yes, Officer?”

“We got a call about some yelling coming from this car. Is everything alright in there?” Cas turned away from the light, hiding his face in his hands, shoulders still shaking.

“Yes, sir. We didn’t want to disturb the neighbors with our yelling, so we stayed out here. I’m sorry for the disturbance.” Dean kept his gaze ahead, lips in a thin line.

“I’m gonna let you off on a warning, but please return to your apartment, sirs. I don’t want to have to come back here again.” The cop tipped his hat, and Dean sighed.

“Goodnight, Officer,” he told him before rolling the window back up. He ran his hands over his face and stared up at the ceiling.

“You should go.”

Cas nodded and pushed the car door open, climbing out of it before slamming it shut behind him. He stepped onto the sidewalk, just under the streetlamp and stood there shivering and shaking and feeling like the world was ending.

Dean didn’t pull out yet, feeling like this was the pivotal moment and that everything depended on him staying where he was. He kept his eyes on the back of Cas’ trench coat, willing him to turn around. Cas shook his head and headed into his building, not stopping to look back. Dean kept his hands gripped to the wheel, and breathed in, feeling everything inside of him crumbling to pieces. He thought he might be sick. He turned the key, not getting the comfort he needed from Baby for the first time in his life, and he pulled away.

If Cas wouldn’t look back than neither would he.

 

**Before- Twenty-Four**

Cas sat at the table, looking over the bills before him. He’d watched the money stretch thin for four years now, watched as Dean begged Bobby for an extra shift here and there, watched as Dean picked up shifts at Ellen’s, covering for Jo. Cas had looked for extra first year Art History courses that he could take to help cover the cost of attendance, but the grad students were limited to teaching a certain number of hours and Cas was at the max.

He’d watched how much they could spend on food grow less and less, if they could buy the ice cream to celebrate Cas’ graduation, if Cas could pick up a bag of Halloween candy to pass out to his students for coming to class that day or if he had to forgo another prize. He’d watched as their laundry fund eventually grew so small that they would start visiting Mary once a month with mesh baskets in tow. He’d watched as Dean passed up another concert with Charlie, because they couldn’t pay for the tickets, even for the seats in the nose bleeds. He’d watched as they both grew stir crazy, unable to afford much other than the occasional movie if they woke early enough for the matinée price.

He’d watched them slip into desperation, watched Dean go to Mary for money while Cas sat denying Anna’s monthly checks, insisting that they could do it on their own. He’d declined the offer, not wanting his sister to know just how bad it was in case word got back to his mother. He’d watched them move out of one small apartment and into an even tinier one. He’d watched in September as it became time to pay Cas’ tuition. And tonight, he’d watched Dean crawl in after a closing shift at the Roadhouse, exhausted to the bone, and Cas knew in four hours the alarm would go off, telling Dean to go into his shift at Bobby’s.

He was killing himself for Cas.

So he knew what he had to do.

After Dean left, Cas borrowed Balthazar’s car and headed east. Forty-five minutes later, he pulled up outside of the old white house he had grown up in. Large white columns lined the front porch. The grass seemed greener than the last time he’d been here, and Cas stopped for a moment to find the irony in that. One step on the front porch was loose, but other than that the house looked to be in pristine condition.

He lifted his hand and pressed in the doorbell button, holding it down for a long second before lifting his finger. There was the sound of footsteps, running down the hall. The curtain from the parlor moved and he knew one of his sister’s was peeking out. He kept his eyes glued to the brass knocker on the door and heard a set of footsteps running in the opposite direction of the door. A moment later, he recognized the clacking of his mother’s heels and braced himself. The lock on the door twisted, and Castiel took a deep breath as the heavy door swung open.

“Castiel.”

“Mother.” Naomi peered at him for a moment before stepping back so he could enter the foyer. He could see Rachel and Hael staring at him from the parlor, but Naomi shooed them away and closed the door.

“I must say I’m surprised to see you. It would have been better if you had called. I have a meeting shortly.” Naomi fastened a watch around her wrist, but her gaze never left her son.

“I think you know why I’m here.” Castiel swallowed heavily and shifted his weight, gaze on the ground.

“Look at me when you speak, _Castiel_.” Naomi’s voice was hard, cold. When he looked up, her lips were pressed in a fine line, but her eyes had a spark of malice in them.

“You were right,” he told her, matching her stare. “Mother.”

“About what dear? Please don’t take all day. I’ve got things to be done.” She was enjoying this.

“About Dean.” Naomi scoffed and walked away. Castiel followed her down the hall, waiting for her to say something. His mother entered into her study, the same place they’d last spoken two years before. She picked up a necklace that was lying on her desk and handed it to him. She turned around, lifting her hair as he put it around her and didn’t speak until it was fastened.

“I know I was.” She turned around, and Castiel fought the urge to lower his eyes again. “What in particular was I right about?” Castiel bit back his anger. He needed her help and fighting her wasn’t going to get him it.

“I need money.”

She laughed again and nodded, this time releasing the smirk. “Of course, you do. He doesn’t bring much in, does he? Hmm. I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.”

“We’ve managed.”

“Not very well. Your pants are falling to pieces.” Castiel wanted to argue that they come that way nowadays, but when he’d bought them they hadn’t been worn around the hems, nor had the hole been in the knee.

“I suppose I could spot you some money. After all, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t?” Cas surged forward, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

“Thank you. Mom, I—” Naomi held up her hand, cutting off whatever he was going to say next.

“You haven’t heard my conditions, Castiel.” He stepped back, releasing his grip.

“I will not support a financially irresponsible couple.”

“We aren’t financially irre—”

“Just because I give you money this once, it doesn’t mean that you’ll have it again next month, darling. And you will need it if that boy is to stay a… what’s he do again? Sell hubcaps?”

“He’s a mechanic, Mother.”

“Ahh, that’s right. Of course, I’d always be happy to pay him for his services if he would like to come work on some of our cars. Michael’s hasn’t been checked in so long.” Castiel seethed inside. There was no way he’d let Dean come out here and be treated like crap for a couple hundred bucks from his mother.

“Of course, I’d understand if you were just a graduate student trying to get his degree. Then things would be completely different.” Cas squinted in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Naomi straightened her shoulders and leaned in so that he couldn’t avert her gaze.

“Leave that man, Castiel, and we’ll get you settled in a nicer place. You can live right next to campus.” Cas stepped back, shaking his head.

“No. No. No.” He held up his hands and turned to leave, but the door behind him slammed closed as Naomi lunged in front of it.

“Listen to me.”

“No!”

“Castiel, I don’t want to put this on you, but you’re holding him back.” Cas froze from where he was trying to leave. Naomi put a hand on her son, rubbing his arm, sympathetically.

“Dean is working himself to death for you. He deserve better, darling. He deserves someone who can carry the weight with him. You can’t do that.”

“No.” The realization crumpled over Castiel’s face. “No.”

“Darling, it’s selfish of you to stay with him. That’s what I was trying to tell you all those years ago. I know you love him, but staying is hurting him. He doesn’t deserve that, and you don’t deserve the guilt you get from that.”

“Mom…” Castiel’s voice broke.

“I just want you to be happy, Cas.” The nickname sounded strange on her tongue, strange enough to break Cas from whatever spell he’d been under.

“No!” He yanked the door open and pushed past Naomi. She stormed down the hallway after him, grabbing his wrist when he reached the front door.

“Fine then. Go! Go back to your small apartment, to your dirty laundry, to your tired husband. Go back but whenever you look him in the eyes and see the regret and spite directed towards you, remember that you had a chance, _Castiel_. That I gave you an out. That you had an opportunity to let him go and be happy. That’s it’s your fault that he wasted his life away. Because of you!” Cas stormed down the front porch and to Balthazar’s car. Naomi watched him from the doorway, but he avoided her gaze as he slammed down on the gas and got the hell out of there.

Her words didn’t leave his mind though. When he got home, he looked around their little apartment. At the brown in the ceiling where there was water damage. At the roach traps sitting in the corners of the rooms. At the stunted view of another building five feet from theirs. At their empty refrigerator and cabinets. At the mildewed bathtub and the narrow walls.

He may have dragged Dean down with him, but he could lift him from this hell.

So he did the mature thing. He picked a fight with his husband and called it quits, leaving with a backpack of school stuff and a change of clothes. Anna picked him up outside and drove back to their place, a worried look on her face but no questions asked, and it wasn’t until he wandered into her bathroom later, that he saw the wetness staining his cheeks and realized why Anna had been so silent all night.

There was a knock on the door and then Anna peaked her head inside.

“Is it over?”

“It’s done.”

 

**After- Six Years Later**

Hannah and Castiel sat in the back row of the auditorium. Balthazar was giving a reading for his book, _Full Frontal: Opening Up with Balthazar Roché_. Hannah and Castiel didn’t particularly want to know the inner workings of Balthazar’s ménage à douze, but they promised him moral support and they delivered. There were a lot of students in the audience, and Castiel had considered for a second offering his own Religious Theory classes extra credit if they came to hear the speech but had decided not to at the last second. So far, Balthazar had mentioned the benefits and joy that comes of a polygamous relationship without going into too much detail, but Castiel knew as soon as the questions started, he would feel no choice but to get graphic.

“So how’s lover boy?” Hannah whispered in Castiel’s ear. He squirmed away at the unwelcome breath as it tickled his cheek.

“Who?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“How do you know about—”

“Hester saw you two chatting it up at the mall a few weeks ago. I wanted to give you time to bring up the fact that you’re apparently besties with your husband again, but clearly, that didn’t happen.”

“Ex-husband,” Castiel corrected as Balthazar made a crude gesture with his fingers. “And we’re not besties. We’re not even talking anymore.”

“Well, that was fast. Do you have to file for divorce papers again or did you two decide to wait and find out your compatibility first this time?”

“Drop it, Hannah,” he growled. Why was she acting so blunt about this? What did she care what he and Dean did?

“What, Castiel? I’m just trying to get the picture, here. Since I apparently have to learn that my best friend is dating his ex from one of his coworkers.”

“You know Hester isn’t just a coworker. She’s a friend, Hannah, and I didn’t tell you, because there’s nothing to tell. We’re over.”

“But there was something?” Hannah crossed her arms and her legs as Balthazar explained one crazy night in Malibu with a particularly bendy flame of his.

Castiel sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe.” There had been something. He and Dean had gone and done it again. And now there was nothing.

“Cas?” He wanted to focus on something else, but the only other thing was Balthazar, and there was no way he was going to listen to that.

“I wanted there to be something, Hannah. I wanted to be with Dean. Like when we were younger.”

“You were kids then, Castiel.”

“We really were.” He looked at all the students in the audience. They were how old Cas had been when he’d first met Dean. He was only thirty now, but he couldn’t imagine any of his students being mature enough to marry their lovers. In fact, he would warn them against it.

“It’s not going to be the same as back then. You’re both different people.”

“I asked you to drop it, Hannah.” He spoke firmly, but his voice betrayed his exhaustion on the subject of Dean Winchester. Several students looked their way but turned around again once they saw his glare. He knew that she was eyeing him, but he kept his gaze steadily on Balthazar.

“Just because you like being with someone, it doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy,” she told him softly. “And sometimes, if they make you really happy, and you make them really happy, you should try for it anyway.” He looked at her. She smiled sadly over at him. “And hey, if it fails, it’s only a broken heart.”

He sighed wearily. “When did you get so smart? Aren’t you still boning the guy you hate?”

“I’ve got a business to run now. I have to be smart.” Then as an afterthought, “And I don’t hate Balthazar.”

“No,” Cas agreed, watching her wistful expression as Balthazar pointed to a student with his hand raised. “I guess you really don’t. I suppose I’ve been a real jerk lately, huh?”

“It’s okay, Cas. You were just too in love with Dean Winchester to notice.” She grinned at him and smiled back. They bumped shoulders and turned to the front where Balthazar was bringing up a diagram on the projector.

He crouched down and whispered in her ear. “Hey, maybe you should take some of your own advice.” He nodded to the front.

Hannah’s smile was sad and bitter as she responded, “Come on, Cas. Just because you think you belong with someone, it doesn’t make them yours. Does Balthazar really seem like the marrying type to you?”

“No, but he looks like the dating type, and he looks at you like he might just want to make that happen. Besides, if it doesn’t work out… he doesn’t deserve you.” She rolled her eyes, but the sadness had left them, so Cas assumed he’d done his job. They focused their attention to the front again where he was describing this one night with handcuffs and a baguette.

“Wow, did you really do that position in handcuffs with him?”

“Shut up!”

 

Cas thought about what Hannah told him for the rest of Balthazar’s reading. He did love Dean, very much, and he wanted to be with him, not just because of his cooking or the sex, but because he loved him and nothing that had happened between them, nothing that was said or done was going to change the fact that he wanted to be with him.

Cas remembered the first morning, waking up in a stranger’s bed, and he felt his throat closing up as he thought back on those two hungry kids, starving for something they couldn’t even imagine yet. Finding Dean had been like stumbling in the desert for three days just to come across Niagara Falls. He’d satisfied Cas in ways that Cas hadn’t even known had been missing.

Those two kids hadn’t known what in all would be ahead of them when Dean smiled at Cas over the breakfast table, and maybe if they did, they would have turned and run in opposite directions. But Cas didn’t think so. He thought they would have fought fate, would have thrown their caution to the wind and chosen free will.

Cas thought about what he wanted, what he needed through all the question and answers and signings, through Hannah and Balthazar pulling him out of the auditorium and towards their car. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the unleveled ground beneath his feet until he was stepping into the gopher hole.

His foot got stuck and he was pitched forward onto the grass, hand thrown out in front of him to protect the blow. Hannah and Balthazar lunged for him, but it was too late. His shoe stayed in the hole, foot popping out, but he barely noticed, arm sizzling with an unbearable pain. He cried out as Balthazar pulled him to his feet and winced when his arm fell to his side.

“I’m fine,” he protested, pushing away Hannah’s worried hands. He tried to walk it off and tumbled to the ground again, still shoeless. Balthazar swung one of Cas’ arms over his shoulder and pulled him up.

“Alright, Big Guy. Hannah and I are going to take you to the car, and we’ll all plan a fun trip to the hospital to get that arm checked out, okay?”

“I’m not five, Balthazar. And it’s fine. I just need to put some ice on it for a while,” Cas protested. Hannah and Balthazar shared a look and led him to the car, shoe forgotten in the hole.

“Cas, it’s time you used that healthcare the school’s paying for,” Hannah advised wisely. Then when he didn’t look convinced, “If _I_ had health insurance, I’d go to the doctor to make sure my ankle wasn’t twisted.” Cas stuck his tongue out at her, a last ditch ever to regain his dignity. It didn’t work, and he was put in the backseat for such childish behavior.

The ride to the hospital was short, but every time the car moved over a speedbump or a pothole, Cas’ arm would bounce, and he’d be in more pain. When he noticed Balthazar’s twitching lips after the fourth time, he realized the man was hitting every hole on purpose. Cas made a note in his head to get back at him for this.

Hannah and Balthazar wait with him for forty-five minutes before a doctor was available to see him. She took some x-rays to be sure there was no break in the bone and declared Cas to have gotten a small hairline fracture in the Ulna. She recommended he not use that arm for a while and to buy a brace but didn’t insist on a cast, and Cas didn’t ask, already knowing his insurance wouldn’t cover all of that.

Hannah took his insurance card up to the front desk and took care of the payments while Balthazar took Cas to the gift shop and bought him one of those large rainbow lollipops for being such a good boy. Cas glared at him, wishing his arm didn’t hurt so he could punch the man. Then Hannah was back, settling the tension, and they headed to the exit where they parked their car.

Or at least they would have done so if Cas hadn’t seen a familiar sweep of blond hair running towards the elevator. He didn’t stop to think, just acted on the surge his heart felt at the sight of Dean and ran after him, arm held close to his chest, which didn’t help any since the movement was still causing it to throb. The elevator doors opened and Dean stepped in. A guard yelled at Cas as he ran past, and Dean looked up from his phone just as the doors began to close. Cas slid through the doors, and hit the wall of the elevator hard. The elevator doors opened back up and, seeing no more intruders, closed again.

“Cas, what—” But Cas didn’t give him time to speak, surging forward and capturing his lips in a long kiss. Dean fell into it desperately before taking note of the situation and tensing up. Cas stepped back and winced, suddenly feeling the pain that had shot through his arm when he’d kissed Dean.

“I need to talk to you,” he explained. Dean arched an eyebrow.

“I’m a bit busy right now, Cas.”

“Yeah, we’re in a hospital. I get that, but I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something.” The elevator beeped as the floors went by, and Cas thanked several religious deities and Elisha Graves Otis for the invention of the elevator so Dean would at least have to hear him out until they reached the eighth floor.

“Well?” he asked, leaning against the wall as Cas tried to catch his breath. His arm was definitely hurting more now than it had before.

“I love you,” he gasped out, sweat forming on his brow. “I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Dean looked surprised, if not at the words, then at the urgency with which Cas delivered them. “I know that we have a lot of things to talk through, and I know that we are going to fight so much.” Dean’s eyes narrowed, and Cas hurried to catch up. “Sorry, I didn’t really think this out before diving into an elevator. What I’m trying to say is that…”

“Well…” The elevator stopped on the eighth floor, but Dean didn’t move to get out.

“I’m saying that… that… “ He sighed and stood up straight, arm clutched close to his chest, thinking back on the words Dean had told him so long ago. The elevator doors began to open, and Cas pushed down the button.

“I want this. This right here. The you in front of me. I want to look at you every day for the rest of my life. Even when we’re old and you hate me for being lazy, and I hate you for farting everywhere. I want to wake up and see you. I want to see you’re peppy self in the morning before I’ve had my coffee when you’re frankly way too loud for eight AM. I want to see you when you’re stressed because our kid got suspended for punching someone, and I want to see you when you’re angry with me, because I promised I wouldn’t burn the potatoes and did.”

“Cas…” The elevator doors opened again and Cas slammed his fist down on the button.

“I’m not finished,” he rushed. “I want you to know that you will drive me up the wall everyday with waking up too early or using up all the hot water. There will always be something, but I want that. I want the good days when we see our baby girl for the first time. I want the bad days when I just want to throw something at your stupidly attractive face. I want the messy and the dirty and everything in between, because I want you.” Cas stepped back and breathed out.

“That’s all.”

The elevator doors opened and a mother and a toddler stood there waiting impatiently, but Dean slammed his fist down on the button and crashed into Cas, pushing him back until he was pressed against the wall. Their lips pulled and sucked at each other. Dean’s hands yanked at Cas’ hair and gripped onto his sweater vest, tugging him closer. Pain shot through Cas’ arm and he cried out. Dean jerked back, eyes wide, and noticed the crumpled way Cas held his arm to his chest.

“What is it? What happened?" he asked, concern leaking into his voice. His throat was rough and watery as if he’d been crying or soon would be.

“Nothing, I just got a hairline fracture. It’s okay, it’s fine. Get back here.” Cas tugged him down into a kiss again, and the elevator beeped as the doors opened. This time a stern looking security guard stood there next to the angry mother.

The couple sheepishly exited the elevator, and Cas realized they were on the maternity ward. He froze and looked to Dean who was grinning from ear to ear.

“She went into labor?” he asked excitedly.

“Uh-huh. Right after getting home from her shift too. I stayed to clean up the mess from our kitchen floor, but Mom and Sam are already here.”

“She’s not on maternity leave yet?”

“It wasn’t starting until next week. The baby’s a month early.”

“Holy crap, you’re an uncle, Dean.”

“Not yet, I’m not,” he said. “Jess’ family has a history of long labors. I figure we’ll be here a while.”

Dean wasn’t wrong. He stepped into the hospital room, arm around Cas’ waist, and kissed Jess on the forehead, giving Mary and Sam a break. Jess wasn’t even at ten diameters yet, so Dean pulled out two chairs and sat next to her and told her the story of Cas running into the elevator. The four took turns throughout the night keeping her entertained.

Dean and Cas curled up in two of the hard chairs in the waiting room around three in the morning while Mary drifted off in another and Sam kept Jess company.

“You know when I said I want the messy, I didn’t mean _immediately_ ,” Cas told him. Dean kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

“Sorry, babe. Take me or leave me.”

“Oh, I’ll take you alright,” he leered at his… _something_.

“Dude, my mom is _right_ there.”

“And she’s awake too,” Mary spoke, causing the two to jump at the sound of her voice. “and really wishes you would be quiet and _go to sleep_.”

Ellen, Bobby, and Jo arrived the next morning and sat with the newly pronounced couple, but it was well back noon the next day when Mary ran into the waiting room to tell them that Dean now had a little niece named Deanna who wanted to see him.

Sam was crying when they all crowded around the bed in the hospital room, and Jess just looked exhausted and maybe like she wanted to stab Sam with the dullest knife she could get her hands on. Ellen cooed over the little baby, and Jo tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. However, when Ellen scolded her and told her to come look at the ‘precious little thing’ she did as told and melted under the ocean blue eyes. Even Bobby shed a few tears when she was placed in his arms. Cas didn’t hold her himself because of his hurting arm, but he leaned against Dean’s shoulder, staring down at the rosy cheeks and button nose and felt his eyes start to prickle.

He excused himself from the room, and a moment later the door opened again behind him as Dean stepped into the hall.

“Hey, you okay?” He placed a soothing hand on Cas’ back and the man nodded, wiping at his eyes.

“Yeah, she’s just really beautiful.”

“Then why are you standing in the hall when she’s in there? Come on. Let’s go back in.” Dean turned to go, but Cas grabbed hold of his arm before he could.

“Dean, wait.” The man turned back around and waited expectantly. “I want one of those. Can we do that?” Dean smiled and pressed a kiss to Cas’ nose.

“I don’t know if we can ‘do that’ do that, but we can certainly have kids one day if that’s what you’re asking. However, I do think dinner should come first.” Cas laughed and wiped away the last of the tears as they turned to the door.

“Yeah,” he said. “Pizza sounds great.”

 

**Before- Twenty**

Castiel had put off returning the black wing tip dress shoes of Balthazar’s for a good month now, but the text he’d received from Balthazar this morning seemed urgent. All that Castiel knew about the date tonight was that Balthazar claimed she was the kind of woman that deserved wing tip dress shoes. Castiel didn’t find that to be very complimentary but didn’t say so. In fact, once he realized his mother was wanting him to come into work with her this morning to help make copies while she was in meetings all day, Castiel had been more than willing to grab the shoes and drive an hour westwards into Lawrence, Kansas.

However, Balthazar was not at his apartment, so Castiel had to discreetly run his fingers over the top of the door to find the extra key. His fingers brushed the shaky ridge of the metal, and he pulled it down quickly, looking around him suspiciously to see if any neighbors had seen. No one was around, but Castiel still felt paranoid as he entered the apartment. He didn’t want to be the reason that someone broke into Balthazar’s apartment one day and stole his flat screen. Or his wing tip shoes.

Castiel smiled at the thought of a burglar wanting to steal the shoes. Of course, Balthazar would be more outraged by that than if a television or laptop was stolen. Castiel would never hear the end of it.

He left the shoes on Balthazar’s messy bed, ignoring the large stain in the middle of the comforter. The apartment was a mess, and any other day, Castiel would have considered cleaning it, especially since his mother wanted him at work. When he opened the closet door, however, a box tipped down on top of Castiel, knocking him to the floor. Dildos, handcuffs, and other sex toys toppled everywhere. He laid sprawled out on the carpet for a moment, contemplating the decisions he’d made in his life that led to him being friends with Balthazar and decided, if this  date worked out tonight, the last thing his friend would want to come home to was a pile of various sex equipment.

Tiredly, he found a napkin in the kitchen closet and picked up each object with care, placing them back in the box and pushing the cardboard back onto the top shelf of the closet. The small space was filled with an assortment of Balthazar’s life. He had old clothes, notebooks, CDs, a guitar, an Xbox, a small box of makeup that Castiel didn’t want to know about, and a blue jean jacket that Castiel had loved to wear in high school before it had mysteriously disappeared one day.

“That fucker took it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing the jacket back and pushing the closet door closed with all of this strength until he heard the click. He didn’t know one person could have such a mess, especially in an apartment this big.

Balthazar’s parents had only wanted what was best for him, and this apartment was top of the line. He’d offered Castiel the guest room, but Naomi would never allow it, no matter how much she liked Balthazar.

Castiel sighed against the closet door and pulled on the jacket. It was tight around his shoulders, but he was so happy to have gotten it back after all this time that he didn’t mind the smallness. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and locked the front door behind him before heading out to his car. The rain clouds he had seen on the drive over were fulfilling their purpose, so he ran for the car, keys already out, pressing the button to unlock the doors. Once he was safe inside the small vehicle, the jacket felt even tighter around him. The heat of June soaked into his skin and he yanked off the wet material.

He started the car and pulled out of Balthazar’s apartment complex, not wanting to return home in case Naomi was still be there, or worse, Michael. He didn’t want to bother Anna, who had a real job for once, or Hannah who had a job at all, even if it was just selling ice cream from a cart at an amusement park. He lacked all energy to deal with Gabriel right now, so he just pointed the car east and drove towards home, not seeing a better option.

The rain picked up but died down again by the time Castiel reached the center of Lawrence. He stopped to fill up his car at a Gas-N-Sip and undid a few buttons of his shirt as the muggy air suffocated him. Back on the road, the rain clouds were gone and the sun looked like it was there to stay. He rolled down his window and relaxed his arm on the frame. The radio was playing some Top 40 song that Castiel had heard Hannah humming along to last time they’d gone out together. He was just getting the hang of the chorus when an orange tabby ran across the road, a black cat chasing it.

Cas slammed down his foot and jerked the steering wheel to the right, tires squealing as his car slowed, then a thump as it went off the road, fell into the ditch, and blew a tire. He sat there for a moment, girl on the radio still belting out a lyric about a cheating boyfriend. He’d never blown a tire before. He wasn’t even sure if there was a spare in the car. And how would he change it? He didn’t have any equipment.

Shakily, Cas reached in the glove box, searching for the card with the insurance company’s number on it. He found it and thumbed the number into his phone. The agent on the other line said they’d send a car out to collect his and take it to the nearest auto shop and to just remain calm. Once they hung up, he slowly climbed out of the car.

_Oh, God. The cats._ He walked around and couldn’t see the front of his car from where it had buried itself in the ditch, but he also didn’t see any orange or black fur around the tires, so he presumed the cats living. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. _What if I hit one and they limped away in pain? I should look for them_. Cas felt his heart seize again and stumbled off in the direction that the cats had gone. He walked for fifteen minutes through the tall grass but couldn’t find them.

_Shit, shit, shit._ He plopped down in the grass and breathed in deeply again trying to calm his heart. _The car!_ He ran back through the grass until he reached his car. A tow truck had pulled it out of the ditch by the time he returned and the hood was open. A tight pair of jeans leaned over the engine, and Cas momentarily allowed himself to get distracted watching the view. Then he shook his head and stepped forward, clearing his throat as he did so.

“Ow!” The man slammed his head on the hood of the car when he jumped up and spun around. Cas felt a blush rise up his cheeks. “Man, don’t _do_ that! Who just sneaks up on people in the middle of the street? What the hell— uh… Hi, there.” The blond man’s jaw had fallen open a little, and Cas would have smirked if he hadn’t been so taken by the green eyes.

“Hello.” He stepped forward and held out a hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. This is my car.” The other man nodded and stepped back.

“Right, yeah. You really screwed up the front, man.” He seemed more composed now that they were back on track. Seeing the crestfallen expression on Cas’ face, he backtracked. “I mean, we’ll be able to fix it, of course.”

“You can?” The blond man was a bit smitten with the hopeful look in Cas’ eyes, and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad. What the hell happened anyway?” He wiped his hands on a dirty rag. His hands were mostly clean, but his nails were coated in black grease, something he’d never been embarrassed by in all the years of working as a mechanic. Now he wanted to scrub them clean with ever bar of soap he could find in Bobby’s shop.

He’d spent the morning under the hood of a Honda, back aching as he checked out the air conditioning unit, so when Bobby had asked who wanted to go tow in a car, he’d volunteered readily.

“There were two cats. They ran across the front and I didn’t want to hit them.” The shorter man explained, bringing Dean back to the present.

“So you swerved on wet roads? Not the smartest plan, man.”

“I know that,” Cas snapped back. The mechanic held up his hands in surrender, and Cas backed down. “I went looking for the cats, but I couldn’t find them to see if they were alright.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, buddy. It’s your car that you might have to worry about.”

“I thought you said you could fix it.” The urgent look was back in Cas’ eyes, and the mechanic rushed to reassure him.

“I can. I just mean that it might be a bit expensive is all.” Cas seemed to deflate.

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ve got enough.” The blond’s eyebrows raised, and he nodded.

“Right.” A breeze brushed over the fields of grass and blew gently at the mechanic’s hair. Cas held out his hand, feeling something inside of him open up for the first time.

“I’m Castiel.” The mechanic smiled and reached forward, taking Cas’ hand in his.

“Dean.”

The wind picked up and pushed Cas forwards. His shirt whipped around him, and a part of him, in the back of his mind, was grateful he had taken off the blue jean jacket. Especially when he shivered and Dean took off his own coat and draped it around his shoulders. He would breathe in the scent of cinnamon and leather the entire ride back to the auto shop.

But standing on the road there, jacket heavy around his shoulders, Cas felt something in the air change, a spark, an electric current that coursed between the two bodies, between the fingers that gently brushed against Cas’ cheek when folding down the collar of the leather material. Cas smiled over at Dean, and Dean felt a pull in the core of his being, felt a sense of home and purpose and _stability_ for the first time since he’d graduated and gotten the hell out of Lawrence. Standing across from the blue eyed man, he thought to himself, _this isn’t such a bad feeling after all._





End file.
